


Lullaby

by Lady_Clow



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amnesia, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Brain Damage, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dark, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Human Experimentation, Imprisonment, M/M, Memory Loss, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Mind Manipulation, Non-Consensual Touching, Non-Consensual Violence, POV Multiple, Protective Noctis Lucis Caelum, Psychotropic Drugs, switching POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:28:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 29
Words: 117,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23080186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Clow/pseuds/Lady_Clow
Summary: It all begins one night when the boy and the man, who never met each other, share one dream. It all begins with boy's scream and break of chains. It all begins with the pain so severe the boy seeks solace in his father's arms but the man has no one to share it with. It all begins when this pain damages the man in such horrible way it's up for the boy to heal him now. But will the world allow the King of Light to save the Accursed or it'll become Astrals' duty to tear them apart for the sake of Prophecy? The one the King might never want to fulfill.
Relationships: Ardyn Izunia/Noctis Lucis Caelum
Comments: 229
Kudos: 239





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, what can I say to defend myself? Nothing, really.  
> This idea floated in my mind for months by now and only with help of wonderful people from ArdyNoct discord server I've gathered up enough courage to try and give it life.  
> This work is dark and will have really disturbing elements in future chapters. Ardyn in this works is severely hurt and damaged by everything he endured and will endure in future, so. All the warnings will be present, but not in ArdyNoct pairing. I want them to be happy together, even though the ones around them will do everything to prevent it from happening. Mind the tags, please.  
> And you can come scream at me at our lovely ArdyNoct discord - https://discord.gg/Q4k24Ju

_“Wherever you will go,_  
_I will let you down,_  
_But this lullaby goes on.”_  
― Sarah Dessen, This Lullaby 

When the night fell, Noctis was in bed already. He let his Dad – Regis – comb his hair with gentle fingers, smile at him and wish him ‘Good night’. He never asked for a midnight story, though – his Nanny told him those ones at night when he was still a child, but now he was five and old enough to fall asleep without tale to lull him.

Besides he’d dream soon and it’d be far better than any fairytale ever – he’d meet Carbuncle again and they’d go on a quest or even get to explore ancient places for hidden treasures, like the one his Dad wore these days – a black ring, simple, but sometimes glowing. Dad explained it was real Magic and soon Noctis would be able to use it too.

Not that he didn’t already. He could warp and make tiny lightning, but the last ones were forbidden for the time being, after he struck those lamps in a throne room, but it was _an accident–_

Noctis sighed contentedly when Dad tucked his blanket and gently tapped his back with broad palm. Eyelids heavy, soft smile on his lips – Noctis eventually fell asleep.

Yet Carbuncle wasn’t there. Nor there were ancient ruins or hidden temples or secret chambers. There was nothing at all, in fact, except blue cloudless sky, crossed by shiny waves that sparkled with colors so bright and fast Noctis couldn’t actually tell them.

This place was beautiful. And yet Noctis didn’t like it.

At all.

Sparks were brighter and even faster now, growing around him, blinding him. Noctis backed away, but he actually had no body to move or even eyes to close. He just was there and it was–

Yes, it was _scary_.

Everything flashed right in his ‘face’ now, so bright and so dark at the same time. Flashes of purple and black, red and blue, golden and white– 

It was too much.

He tried to whimper, but failed – he didn’t have a voice to do that.

When flashes consumed him, he tried to cry, but his inexistent cheeks were dry. Then everything exploded and it hurt and he was scared and it _hurt so much_ –

He never felt something like this before.

Noctis tried to whimper again and actually felt his mouth, but when it opened at last the thing that tore from it was _scream_.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

The gold of the field was gone. Gone so long already he barely remembered it was even there once. Maybe it actually wasn’t. It was another of those quick and short illusions his mind tried and failed to create.

They all ended so fast every time and he was too tired to try and let them linger.

He didn’t open his eyes; there was no point in staring at the pitch blackness of a place he was trapped in. He knew every tiny bit of that darkness already – all its shades and cracks. Especially the biggest one, somewhere above where something blue once was, something called ‘a sky’, maybe, but he couldn’t tell for sure.

He didn’t remember whether it was there at all.

Maybe it was, because ‘the sky’ wore something that was big and round – ‘sun’ or something like that. It was bright and had eyes. They gazed through the biggest crack, right at him, every time the dark slipped away – it was called ‘a day’, maybe?

It hurt. Not as much as cold metal in his hands, his back and sides. Those hurt endlessly and ‘the sun’ only temporarily before darkness returned.

Sometimes he forgot to close his eyes and ‘the sun’ would burn them out. They always returned with the darkness.

Today he closed them when the crack started shining and opened only now, seeing only black. Fingers on his left hand twitched suddenly – they sometimes did that – and the spike sent burning stab of hot pain through his whole arm. His fingers needed to be still – it won’t hurt _that_ much this way.

They twitched again. He sighed and closed his eyes.

There wasn’t gold behind his eyelids anymore. Nor was it darkness.

It was an endless shade of blue with sparks of different colors he long forgotten the names for. It was beautiful.

And he wanted the darkness back.

The sparks were getting rapidly closer now and he tried to move away from them, but there was no body of his in there. He couldn’t close his eyes either, because there were none too. The sparks engulfed him and they hurt.

They hurt _a lot more_ than spikes and ‘the sun’ ever did.

He never felt something like this before.

His body was back and so his eyes and they burned out and returned at the same moment in an endless flow of pain and bone-crashing agony that he _never_ felt before.

His lips parted but no sound came because at this exact moment someone screamed instead of him.


	2. Chapter 2

The scream turned into high-pitching whine – then into a sob, but Noctis couldn’t care less. He didn’t hear his Dad’s frantic words – didn’t even notice him coming, with Clarus and few servants following. He didn’t notice the cold night breeze, blowing in a room through the window, with its glass scattered in a pile of shiny ash on a floor. He surely couldn’t have noticed the same piles all over the Citadel, after his magic shattered all glass surfaces in it.

He curled in on himself, sobbing wretchedly, trying and failing to chase the pain in his head away. It just hurt so, _so much!_

Dad’s arms were around him, strong and warm, drawing soothing circles on his back and sides, but it didn’t help. Noctis buried his face in Dad’s stomach, wrapping small arms around his middle, smearing his fine garments with snot and tears.

He wanted to scream again, but his voice was so weak, it wouldn’t come out properly. It lowered to childish whines, muffled by Dad’s clothes.

By the time pain faded Noctis cried himself sick, hiccupping franticly with awful taste of snot in his mouth. Dad took a cup of water from someone – someone was actually there too? – and helped him make a few gulps. He was telling him something softly, cooing, never breaking their embrace.

Noctis swallowed the bile in his mouth and buried his face in the crook of Dad’s neck when Regis lifted him in his lap.

The pain was gone, but he was scared it might return and next time he’d still be helpless against it. Because he couldn’t actually tell what caused it in the first place.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

Noctis fell asleep only when the sky paled before dawn. Regis gently wiped last traces of tears off his cheeks, noticing the way his eyes were puffy and swollen from all that crying.

Noctis was scared by something he couldn’t name and it was intense enough to wake him up screaming and destroying all glass surfaces in the Citadel, as Clarus grimly reported an hour ago. Regis couldn’t care less, when he himself, on the other hand, was totally _terrified_.

Hearing his son’s scream, seeing him in this state – it was almost too much for him to bear. No amount of soothing helped; he couldn’t calm his precious child, who was gripped in a clutches of a nightmare. Not to mention, Regis _never_ saw Noctis this scared before. Coaxing didn’t help either: Noctis couldn’t tell coherently what this nightmare was like. He just snuggled closer to his Dad, whimpering and shaking. Regis swallowed all other questions and simply held him, rocking back and forth slightly, gently stroking his hair and humming under his breath. It calmed Noctis enough to fall asleep again, but even then Regis refused to leave his side.

When the horizon’s color slowly started turning pale shades of blue and yellow, Regis left his son with two servants and moved to the adjacent room. Clarus was waiting for him there, with hot mug of coffee in his hand and sympathetic look on his face. Regis thanked and downed the mug in one go, barely wincing when it burned his throat.

“You need to sleep,” Clarus offered, nodding towards the canopy bed, which seemed tempting enough to lie down on and close eyes for a few minutes.

But Regis knew the sleep was not an option fro the time being.

“How bad is it?” he asked instead, lowering his suddenly tired body in a chair, which felt as comfortable as that bed over there.

“Well,” Clarus made a wry face, shrugging, “nothing we can’t fix, of course, but it’ll take some time to replace all glass in the Citadel. Not to mention some rooms now are in dire need of new chandeliers and don’t even get me started on kitchen quarters.”

It was Regis’ turn to wince – he imagined the damage done to the last one, considering their usual favorite dining sets were indeed made from glass. Anyway, nothing his money couldn’t fix.

The sudden knock startled them both and when Clarus opened they saw one of Glaives with his back stiff and face tense.

“Your Majesty, Counselor,” he quickly bowed. “I think… I think you need to go with me.”

The last part sounded kind of strange. Regis frowned but otherwise walked out of the room with no other questions. It appeared this night wasn’t done with ‘surprises’ and sudden news.

They went to the front gates where other Glaives were standing in a loose circle, staring at something between them. Something that Regis saw clearly only when they parted after his approach.

Not something, but someone. A man, who looked like he climbed straight from the Underworld, smashing his way with bare hands, judging by the amount of dirt on them.

He was sitting on a ground, hunched up, slightly rocking back and forth as if there wasn’t enough strength in his body to help him sit upright without collapsing. He was drenched to the bones, almost naked, wearing only ragged trousers, which were sopping too, slowly forming a puddle of water under him. Long hair plastered to his spine and face Regis couldn’t see properly – the man seemed like a ghost, so pale and ill-conditioned it was a miracle he still managed to hold his body upright.

“What is the meaning of this?” Clarus asked right away, startling Regis from his silent observation. The man swayed again a bit, as if shaken from the sound of someone’s voice but didn’t lift his head. Regis noticed droplets of water dropping from his hair-ends and chin.

“Your Majesty,” Drautos, newly promoted captain of the Glaives, quickly bowed. “Counselor.” He straightened again, throwing quick glance towards their silent ‘finding’. “We… don’t actually now. The security guards saw him not far from the Southern Gates. He was trying to stand up, but couldn’t. We moved him here and I asked for you,” he looked at Regis again.

“Who is this man?” he asked, stepping closer, but Clarus touched his shoulder right away, preventing him from coming near the man they knew nothing about.

“That we don’t know either,” Drautos looked rather uncomfortable, giving the same answer twice already. “He won’t answer us. We tried not to touch him without the need, but it seems he doesn’t even understand someone’s here.”

That Regis saw quite well. The man didn’t try to lift his head, didn’t even acknowledge all these people around him. He just sat there, with head bowed, dripping wet, and–

Shaking. The rocking back and forth thing was in fact tremors that wracked his whole body. Judging by the chilling morning weather and the fact the man was soaked to the bones it wasn’t hard to understand why.

Regis moved even closer.

“Your Majesty,” Clarus warned immediately; him and Glaives tensing, ready to stand between their King and this man who, quite possibly, might have been a threat despite first appearance.

“It's okay,” Regis waved back, slowly inching closer, until he stood right in front of the man. Slightly grimacing from the fleeting shot of pain through his knee, Regis slowly crouched, getting on the same level with man. That indeed earned a reaction, though not the one he was expecting.

The man’s head shot up, letting Regis notice the eyes with pupils dilated so much they seemed totally black. It was the one thing he had time to catch before the man violently flinched away from him, rearing back and falling on his side from the sudden move. He crashed on his forearms, which barely held his weight upright, trembling with effort.

Regis froze, hand mid-air, completely at loss from such reaction. The man, it seemed, came out of this strange trance he was in this whole time, noticing his surroundings and the people around him. He tried to jerk away again, but failed.

Regis met his eyes again and had to suck in a breath. Not ever in his life he saw such raw terror on someone’s face. It was ridiculous to even think that it might have been faked.

The man looked back, gripped by horror so severe it didn’t let him turn away. He made no sound the whole time, but his breath was quick and short, almost like from panic attack. Or not almost.

Regis sensed all the tension from people around them, so he slowly lifted his hand, trying to motion Clarus to get them step away a bit. The man flinched hard from that movement, jerking back again and Regis quickly dropped his hand back on a knee.

“It's… okay,” he slowly said, as gentle as possible. He tried to imagine Noctis, frightened from nightmare, and his voice dropped an octave, almost a whisper now.

It was far from ‘okay’, actually, with the man so scared he barely breathed. Regis risked a glance back at Clarus, who immediately stepped closer. The man recoiled, his shoulder bumping against the nearest Glaive, which seemed to scare him even more. He shrinked to the other side and Regis quickly motioned with his hand to widen the circle.

The Glaives listened immediately, backing away from the man, who seemed on a verge of death from panic, caused by their mere presence.

“It's okay,” Regis repeated, slowly raising his hands, palms up. He tried to catch the man’s frantic gaze and when he did they both froze again. Regis inhaled and exhaled slowly, without breaking eye contact. “Shhh,” he soothed gently, as if cornering a frightened animal, though no animal he met through his years was _that_ scared ever.

The man’s fingers fisted the torn piece of fabric around his waist – they shook so hard he couldn’t even clench them properly. Regis made a slow motion with his hands, petting the air between them.

“It's okay,” he coaxed in the friendliest voice, even risked a small smile – barely at the corners of his lips. “We won’t hurt you. Shhh, it’s okay.”

The man couldn’t tear his eyes away. They were glued to Regis’ face, searching for something his clearly damaged from all that terror brain wanted to know or find. The man’s lips slowly parted but no sound escaped – not even a gasp. Regis distantly thought he could’ve been mute or deaf but it seemed the man heard his voice at least.

They stayed like that, frozen to the spot, eyes glued to one another, for long moments. No one around them tried to interrupt or break the tense silence. The world around them became brighter with each passing minute but the sun still was below the horizon. Regis distantly thought Noctis might have waked up again and was now asking for him. He could only pray for the Astrals not to let his son cry from another nightmare right at this moment with his Dad away and no one but two servants to soothe him.

His hands balled into fists – plain involuntarily reaction – but the man flinched so hard as if those fists were inches away from punching him. Regis flinched too, quickly offering open palms again. He lowered them a bit in a sign of invitation, relaxing his pose as much as he was able to with his knee throbbing and back stiff from crouching too long.

“It’s okay,” he repeated again. “Don’t be scared, it’s fine. We won’t hurt you.”

The man’s palms dropped to the ground suddenly and he swayed harder, clearly out of strength. Tremors wracked his body endlessly now, he hunched again on his knees, head lowering. Regis risked a move closer and the man immediately tried to flinch back again but this time his body failed him completely. Regis barely had time to jump on his feet and jerk forward, not minding the pain in his leg, before the man collapsed on the ground, hitting the side of his head with sickening ‘thump’.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

It was the same room, door to door with the one where Noctis was still sleeping. Regis lowered himself in the chair with soft groan, stretching his throbbing leg and trying not to wince too hard. Clarus stood beside him – lips in a tight line, arms crossed – and didn’t tear his piercing gaze away from the bed, where their new ‘addition’ was currently examined by two doctors. Barely twenty minutes earlier both Clarus and Drautos strongly advised him against moving this man here, in his private chambers, but he did it anyway. First, these quarters were right beside Noctis’ ones and he could check on his son any minute, without leaving side of the man, whose condition troubled him. Second, there were at least five Glaives outside this room – three of them standing at Noctis doors, making sure the Prince was guarded and safe. The latter Regis checked for himself immediately after the man was brought here, quickly peeking inside his son’s room and hearing soft snores from the bed. Servants he left with him assured him the Prince hadn’t waked up since his Father’s depart and was sleeping peacefully. 

After few minutes the doctors were done, assuring Regis his ‘guest’ didn’t have any injures – not even a bruise on the side of his head where it hit concrete. He seemed malnourished and severely exhausted though, nothing a good sleep and food could fix.

When they left, two servants came, under Clarus’ command, bringing clean clothes, some towels and other things to help the man while he was asleep. Regis doubted he would’ve let them near him if he was awake, even if it meant soaking the entire bed with water dripping from his body. This was strange, actually, how he became this drenched, because there was no rain the day before and the sea was too far either.

Still, it was a small blessing the man didn’t wake up from all those ministrations with his body. Regis watched the rise and fall of his bare chest and wondered what would happen when he’d open his eyes again eventually. The doctors assured him, though, that they gave the man some medication to sleep a plenty of hours, so there was still time to think.

Eventually Clarus managed to coax him to rest for a bit and Regis departed for his own quarters where feel asleep immediately after his head touched the pillow.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

When Noctis woke up, his Dad was gone. He slowly blinked himself awake, stifled a yawn and sat in his bed, blearily looking around. There was a servant in a chair near his bed, and she immediately greeted him, asking whether he needed something. Noctis shrugged at that, climbed out of the bed and headed straight to the bathroom.

When he was done, the servant helped him with his clothes and he asked to go see Dad. She escorted him thought the door (he was not a baby, though, he could come see his Dad alone, thank you very much) where they immediately saw five Glaives standing at attention: two beside his door, three more – at the adjacent room.

“Dad’s there?” Noctis asked, but one of the Glaives shook her head at him.

“He’s at his own quarters, Your Highness.”

“Then who’s there?” Noctis tried to peek from both sides of her, as if he actually could see something though the closed door. He noticed two of ‘his’ Glaives quickly hiding their smiles.

“Unfortunately, the information is secret, Your Highness,” the woman shook her head again. “His Majesty’s order.”

Noctis frowned at that, but backed away. He let his attendant escort him to his Dad’s quarters, but couldn’t help glancing back from time to time, as if expecting mysterious doors to open and all secrets burst out of that room. Nothing happened though and he quickly forgot about that room, when his Dad hugged him, asking if he was okay, gently stroking his hair and smiling at him with that kind smile Noctis liked so much.

Once Dad told him his Mom smiled at him like that too, but sadly Noctis couldn’t remember.

They had their breakfast, where Regis carefully tried to breach the topic of night’s events in Noctis room, but the Prince just shrugged, lowering his eyes. He couldn’t answer all those questions his Dad actually had, because he barely remembered the previous night at all. He was scared and it hurt – that’s all. Now it was okay and eventually that was everything Regis needed to know. Noctis saw his shoulders relax visibly, the tension seeping away from him and let a small sigh himself. 

They were fine.

Then it was Iggy and lessons, but Noctis wasn’t bored at all. He learned everything, making Iggy smile proudly at him and headed straight to Gladio after, where he let all fear of the previous night be blown away with every movement of his body, with every turn and thrust. By the time he was done, his arms ached a bit, but he felt more at ease than since morning.

When he returned to his room for the night, eventually, there were no guards at his doors and only two Glaives at the one opposite. He remembered suddenly his Dad’s orders not to tell anyone what was in it and the next thing he understood, after slipping in his pajamas and curling on a bed, was _curiosity_.

He wanted to know what was there. Wanted to ask his Dad, but he still didn’t come and Noctis needed to know _now_. Somehow it was important, but he couldn’t explain why. He just wanted to peek inside, for a bit, to check and quickly go away. But Glaives said they won’t let him in.

Noctis sat in his bed, deep in thought and tapped finger on his knee. Actually, there was a way to sneak in that room, but Dad didn’t like it when he used it in Citadel. He said Noctis could hurt himself and asked him no to do it here. And he didn’t, since then, but now was, as Iggy liked to say, the serious reason to do it.

So Noctis jumped from his bed and immediately warped. He appeared in a room, collapsing right on the corner of a massive bed with muffled “Oof” and shaking his head a bit. Somehow it was harder than previous times and he quickly glanced back at the doors, to check whether someone heard his little appearance. Everything was quiet, no steps and no mentions of his name – nothing. He sighed softly and someone sighed back.

Noctis froze, turning his head slowly, and met the most beautiful eyes he’d _ever_ saw. They were golden and he never saw eyes of that color on anyone. Was it even possible to have golden eyes? Iggy told him once the color of people’s eyes was narrowed to few hues: green, blue, black or brown. With all variations, of course – Gladio, for example, had light-brown eyes and they were kind of cool too, but not nearly as these ones.

Actually there was a thin ring of gold around black pupil now, and it took Noctis a moment to understand why. Those eyes belonged to a man, who was sitting upright on the bed, looking at Noctis with such amount of fear it made him stomach tight with sudden knots. Noctis swallowed, not moving even a finger and slowly looked back. He was not afraid himself, even considering there was an adult he didn’t know at arm’s length away and they were alone in a room together.

The man had long hair but Noctis couldn’t tell the exact color, because the room was mostly dark. He wore a plain shirt and pants and his feet were bare.

“Um…” Noctis mumbled when the silence became unbearable and the man immediately flinched. That made Noctis pause, hands tugging at the hem of his pajama top.

After long and uncomfortable beat of silence he tried again.

“Hello?” it sounded quieter than he intended, barely a mumble, but the way the man’s breath hitched meant he heard him perfectly well. He didn’t say ‘hello’ back, though.

Noctis paused again, looking around, though this room resembled his own pretty much so there was nothing interesting for him in here. Except the person on a bed beside him.

Who still was scared pretty much, judging by his ragged breathing and flinching every time Noctis made even a slightest move.

“I…” Noctis swallowed, tugging at his pajama harder. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Sorry.”

The man said nothing, but didn’t look away either.

“Are you Dad’s guest?” Noctis cocked his head to the side, slowly dragging his body further – he was sitting at the very corner of bed and didn’t want to slip on a floor. The man jerked back, as if frightened Noctis might jump on him or something, but he didn’t want to do it. Iggy said it was rude to enter people’s personal space without permission.

Still, this man was _scared_ and Noctis could guess it was bad by the way he was behaving. He felt sudden but strong rush of pity – the night before Noct was the one sobbing and shaking from some horrible dream he couldn’t remember now and understood quite well what this man was feeling now. He didn’t know what scared him, though, but it must have been something _awful_ to leave him in such state.

“Did you have a bad dream?” he asked softly. His stomach was in knots and his throat suddenly felt tight, as his the nightmare from the night before started to return.

Noctis wished it won’t.

“I’m sorry if you did,” he mumbled, dropping his gaze. “I’ve had one either. It was pretty bad, you know.”

He tried to swallow the rock which blocked his throat, but failed. It was so big his own breath became short and his voice sounded miserable. He didn’t want to cry, but his eyes stung already. He tried to inhale and exhale slowly, like Iggy once taught him, but in the end all he managed was a pitiful sniff.

“I’m sorry you’re scared,” he sniffed again, trying to wipe his still dry eyes with clenched fist, but they stung nonetheless. “Can I…” he swallowed a sob trying to break free and jerked his head up. “Can I do something for you? Tell you a story, maybe?”

The man said nothing, but kept looking at him, as if he couldn’t tear his eyes away. Or was too scared to. The gold of his eyes disappeared completely, swallowed by the black, and Noctis swallowed again.

Maybe the man was scared by him too. Maybe he slept and then Noctis came and jerked him awake and it scared him way more than the dream he was having did.

Maybe he should apologize again?

“I’m… um…” his leg hurt suddenly. He sat right on it and it was pins and needles already. Noctis shifted to the side, untangling it from under himself, but the balance felt odd and he fell face down on a bed with muffled “Umph”.

The bed creaked and everything stopped. Noct huffed, slowly getting up, with palms pressed against soft fabric of the cover. It had some wet spot, almost dry by now.

The man was in the same place as before, but more turned towards Noctis now. His hand was on a cover too, fingers twitching slightly, as if he tried to move them further, but didn’t know how. They were long and delicate, Noctis noticed. He wondered what they felt like. His Dad had broad palms, but they were always gentle when he touched him. 

Noctis wanted to touch too. So he sat upright and quickly pressed his finger against one of the man’s.

They were trembling – even more now, when Noctis touched. But the man didn’t jerk his hand away. Noctis risked a glance at him and slowly moved his hand back in his lap. The heavy press in his throat returned.

The man didn’t move his hand not because he didn’t want to. He was paralyzed now, with eyes so scared Noctis wanted to cry.

“I’m sorry,” it came out like a hiccup now. “I didn’t mean to.”

He rubbed his eyes again, feeling bad and suddenly sleepy. He blinked hard, then rubbed his cheeks. The man followed his every move silently, but didn’t even shift himself. Noctis dragged himself to the side slowly, to prop his shoulder on a pillow and the man’s fingers immediately tried to grip the cover, but they trembled so hard he failed. Noctis tried to make the distance between them bigger, but there was only so much place on a bed even as massive as this one.

“Do you want to lie down, maybe?” he offered hesitatingly after some time. “It’s soft,” he patted the pillow to indicate what he was talking about and it was soft and fluffy indeed. Much like his own one in a room nearby.

The man’s fingers twitched suddenly towards his own pillow but stilled momentarily again. Noctis blinked at that. A few moments passed and he slowly dragged his small hand back on a pillow and gently patted it. The man’s fingers twitched again. Noctis breath stopped for a second or two. His body locked tight in place, only hand moving, he patted the pillow's corner and watched, in silent fascination, as the man’s fingers inched closer to the second one.

By the seventh time Noctis patted his pillow the man’s hand was on his own. He quickly jerked it back, as if stung, and Noctis barely suppressed a whine. It was so soft! He wanted him to touch it and feel for himself. The man’s so tired, maybe, being scared for so long – he needed a good rest. Maybe a nap, but without nightmares this time. Maybe Noctis could ask Carbuncle to make sure of that.

So, driven by determined urge to coax the man to rest, Noctis slowly lowered his head on a pillow and couldn’t stifle a relieved sigh. It was so soft and he definitely needed a nap himself too. He let a loose smile form on his lips and patted his pillow again, rubbing small circles in it and trying to snuggle his cheek against the fluffy fabric.

The man’s hand slowly, hesitantly, found its way back on his own pillow and this time he didn’t jerk it back. Noctis saw it trembling still and he definitely couldn’t make himself start patting like Noctis did (maybe it was too much for now?) but it seemed he couldn’t move his hand back either, not when he actually felt all the softness under his palm.

His eyes darted back and forth between Noctis and the pillow and every time Noctis caught still dark gaze with no trace of gold he tried to smile. It became harder with each passing second because his own eyes tried to slip closed more and more but he fought approaching slumber with all his might. Not in fear of a new nightmare, though – somehow he knew it won’t come again.

No, he didn’t want to leave this man alone, even figuratively speaking. Yes, his body would still be present, but his mind would slip away in a dream and he didn’t want that now. He wanted to be awake, wanted to talk to him more – and it didn’t matter the man wasn’t saying something back. He understood him and that was fine with Noctis for now.

He wanted to see that gold again – it was beautiful and he smiled and tried to tell him how really, really beautiful his eyes were, but suddenly all he saw was darkness of a sleep, which dragged him further and further down.

He didn’t want to. He still didn’t tell this man his name.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What surprises morning could bring?  
> Noctis is too smart for his age, but that's a good thing for them both. Regis just doesn't know what to do and Ardyn... well, everything is too much and too soon for him at the time being.

_He lay with his back on a ground. Head was a bit higher, on something solid but otherwise soft. He opened his eyes, blinking through the cloud-fogged sleep and felt brush of fingers on the side of his face. He turned his head and placed a kiss on them and they didn’t move away, stroking his jaw and cheeks now._

 _He fell asleep and he shouldn’t have done it at all. He promised himself not to. Not when_ **he** _wasn’t able to do it. Not when he wanted to see_ **him** _more, as if afraid that next time he’d open his eyes_ **he** _would be gone forever._

 _But it was so good here, so warm and peaceful. His eyes started closing again. He whined low in his throat – he didn’t want to! But fingers moved away too, replaced by something even better – something pressed to his hair._

 _Something he loved to taste so much._

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

Noctis woke up with his cheek buried in a fluffy pillow, one arm tucked under its corner while the other was on a cover, slightly outstretched towards–

He blinked a few times in a pale morning light, streaming through large windows on both sides of the room, without even looking at them – he just knew where they were, because his own room had similar ones.

No, everything he saw now was everything he couldn’t see the night before. And it was even better than that dream he had – the dream he couldn’t remember already, but it was so warm and beautiful he didn’t even want to wake up. But he did and it was even better, because the man was still there, his head on a pillow too and he was awake as well, looking back at Noctis and the gold in his eyes was _sparkling_.

He stiffened immediately when their eyes met and sat up, which made the bed creak (Noctis’ one wasn’t creaking, though, even when his Dad was sitting on it with him) and completely jerked Noctis awake. He sat up too, fighting back a yawn, and quickly rubbed his eyes with both palms. When he glanced back the man was there, right in front of him and he was–

 _Oh_. Beautiful. Noctis watched in awe his sparkling gold eyes; his hair, the color of which Noctis never saw on anyone before. It was red, like those flowers blooming in their garden only once in a few years – or like a wine his Dad liked to taste from time to time. The man’s hair was long, past his shoulders even, framing his face with delicate strands Noctis hands itched to touch. He frowned at that, glaring at his palms – it was rude to touch someone without permission, which he did already the night before and now this man maybe thought he was some disrespectful brat.

Deep down Noctis didn’t want this man to think badly of him.

The look on man’s face was strange a bit – something between fear and confusion and Noctis definitely shouldn’t have thoughts like these but it made him look _adorable_ in some unique way. The man seemed unreal, like some ethereal being created by magic on the verge of a sunrise only for first rays of sun to utterly dispel it – as if he was merely a dream.

Noctis _definitely_ didn’t want him to vanish, even if it meant to jump from that bed and shut all covers on windows, blocking all sun’s rays from entering the room completely.

“Hello,” he whispered instead with a smile on his face and it was exactly three ‘thumps’ of his own heart later the man’s lips slowly parted.

Noctis heart dropped down his stomach, dissolving there in lots of butterflies, which tried to flutter their way out of him. He wanted to hear. He wanted to–

That was the exact moment the door opened wide and his Dad quickly stepped in. They both started, snapping their heads towards him, but when Noctis only let out a surprised gasp, the man flinched away so hard, his back collided with the bed’s headboard.

The whole thing creaked again.

Noctis wanted to turn to the man, to tell him it’s okay, it’s just Dad, he’s not scary at all, but couldn’t, because Regis’ face was hard with worry and something else he didn’t understand. He crossed the room in few long strides and grabbed Noctis by the arm, right into his tight embrace, knocking all breath from him with surprised “Oh!”.

“I’ve come to your room this morning and suddenly you wasn’t there,” Regis moved back, looking down at Noctis and worry on his face merged with chagrin, making Noctis’ shoulders slump. “Son, why are you here? The Glaives told me they informed you about my order not to enter this room. Do you have any idea how–”

His voice was rising an octave now and Noctis felt himself hunch involuntarily, but he didn’t interrupt his Dad. Well, at least until he heard something like a swallowed gasp behind him.

That made him squirm away from Dad’s hands immediately and turn back. And oh – of course, the man was still there, fingers clutching the cover under him, still trembling as the night before and that fear, which made Noctis’ stomach twist in awful knots, swallowed all the sparkling gold in his eyes again.

“No,” he shook his head quickly, crawling back on a bed, even if the man flinched away from him straight away. “It’s okay, it’s just my Dad, he’s good, I promise, he won’t scare you anymore, don’t be afraid, please.”

His voice broke by the end of this incoherent babbling but Noctis couldn’t care less. His lower lip started to tremble and eyes stung again, but he wanted the gold _back_ , he wanted to chase all this fear _away_ , he wanted–

“Noctis,” he breathed out, pressing an open palm to his heart and looked right in the man’s frightened eyes. He felt desperate need to tell him. To tell him something right now. “I’m Noctis.”

The man just looked back at him with that raw terror on his face and Noctis suddenly wanted to cry. There was Dad’s hand on his shoulder, gently tugging him away.

“Noctis, we need to go,” his voice was calm, but firm and Noctis felt himself moving under his command, but his eyes never left the man on a bed. Something new flashed in their blackness – another kind of fear Noctis didn’t see there before.

Only when they stepped away from the bed he saw the way man’s fingers fisted in bed’s covers, how his whole body swayed forward and immediately stilled, as if collided with solid wall.

Noctis understood.

“Wait,” he mumbled, tugging on Dad’s arm. “He wants me here.”

“Noctis, I’ll return and check on him right away, but you need to go to your room now, do you understand me?” Regis slowly, but surely led him to the door.

There it was again – desperate fear in man’s eyes. If Noctis didn’t know better he thought the man would reach for him. He wanted him too.

He wanted so much.

“Dad, please,” he tried to stop his feet from moving, to stand still, but somehow he was on a doorstep already and his Dad’s body was blocking the man from him and that just wasn’t right. “He doesn’t want me to go, please, I need to go back, he’s scared, please, Dad!”

“Noctis, stay here, please,” he was back in his room now and he didn’t want to and it was not fair – he needed to go back, he was needed there. Dad placed a quick kiss at the top of his head and closed the door behind him.

Noctis was left alone and only now felt tremors wracking his body. Somehow he knew they weren’t _his_.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

When Regis returned, after making sure the Glaives would check on his son at least once in a while, the man was still on a bed. His posture seemed awkward, too tight and strained, with head bowed and hands fisted in the bed’s cover. He immediately snapped his head up, his frightened eyes boring holes in Regis’ face and instantly tried to move back, even though he was pressed against bed’s headboard already.

Regis let out a long sigh, realizing it won’t be easy. He moved one step a time, looking at the man from the corner of his eye, but the pattern somehow broke: the man wasn’t looking at him anymore. Instead he looked at the door, digging his fingers harder in cover’s soft fabric.

Regis sat in the chair not far from the bed and cleared his throat. The man flinched right away, but otherwise didn’t even turn his head. From that corner Regis saw his profile, framed by wine-red hair so long it was falling past his shoulder blades.

“Do you remember me?” he asked when the silence became unbearable.

Twitching of man’s shoulders was the one indication that he heard him. This new behavior was totally different from the one in the beginning, when the man tracked his every move like frightened animal. While the silence between them stretched like a tight string, Regis took his time to look the man up and down.

He wasn’t frail, like they thought at first, but with shoulders hunched and limbs shaking he seemed somehow smaller than he, probably, was. Also it seemed he didn’t have food or water for quite some time. Regis had absolutely no idea where exactly this man was for him to escape from there in such state. Of course, Insomnia, as every other city, had her richest and poorest districts but he never thought people in latter’s might starve _that_ much.

He decided to try again.

“Where are you from?” he tried to keep his voice as gentle as possible and not to scare the man more than he was already. If it was actually possible to be scared even more than he was now.

Still nothing, not even a quick glance at his direction. Regis saw the man was listening – barely – but he kept staring at the door, as if it was the most important thing to do.

“My name’s Regis,” he continued nonetheless. “Can you tell me yours?”

No answer.

Regis needed to admit it unnerved him now.

“No one’s going to come here without my permission, don’t be afraid,” he tried to assure. Maybe the man was looking at the door out of fear that someone else might come and–

Someone else.

It was a very, very disturbing thought to have. That made Regis tense immediately, back straight and palms on chair’s armrests. He didn’t want to think about this possibility, but it was a possibility nonetheless.

“Do you want him to come?” he narrowed his eyes, but kept his voice calm and calculated. When still no answer came, Regis cleared his throat and added in something close to whisper. “Noctis.”

And oh, how was he proved right, when the man’s head snapped in his direction so fast that one loose strand of his wine-red hair hit him across lips. Regis looked in the horror-struck black eyes and tried to calm his own racing heart, after witnessing the reaction he didn’t want to acknowledge, even if he knew beforehand what it might have been.

 _He doesn’t want me to go. He wants me here._

That was what Noctis told him. That was what he saw by himself now in those black eyes, which supposed to be golden. 

Barely a night passed and his son made things more complicated than they already were. Because this time that fear in man’s eyes was different.

Regis remembered his son’s face when he dragged him away. Remembered the way his lip trembled and his eyes tried to look back, through the doors and walls separating him and this man who was scared now he might never be able to see him again.

Everything inside Regis screamed in protest when he stood up – and this time not only just his knee. He left the room with no spare glance and entered the adjacent one. Noctis was at the edge of his bed, fists clenched and head bowed. He sniffed loudly and looked at him, but said nothing.

“You have to promise you’ll behave,” Regis only asked him, gently stroking his hair and when Noctis jerkily nodded he took his small arm in his own and guided him out of the room.

 _This is a mistake_ , he tried to tell himself with actual meaning behind it, because he didn’t know why. 

_You shouldn’t do it_ , he persuaded himself while opening the door and letting Noctis inside, trying and failing not to notice how his face lit up immediately.

 _This IS a mistake!_ something in the back of his consciousness screamed at him in a voice harsh and demanding, but in that exact moment the man’s eyes found Noctis and turned golden again.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

At first Regis tried to limit their time ‘together’ to as small amount as possible. He didn’t know who that man was. He didn’t know where did he came from and what he wanted. There was a greatest possibility he was faking this whole demeanor for them to let their guards down and then strike. And, Astrals above, Regis didn’t want Noctis to come near him at all, even though he already did a mistake of allowing it.

“But he’s scared when I’m away,” Noctis tried to reason, arms crossing. His words were truth, even if an unpleasant one.

“Son,” Regis lowered his voice, face serious. “He’s scared _all the time_.”

Which was true either. The man in question sat not far away from them, still in those clothes they provided him with and with the same terrified look on his face. Regis noticed him clenching his fingers on a pillow’s corner this time, eyes never leaving Noctis head.

He looked only at Noctis now.

“I know!” Noctis announced and bit his lip in frustration. “I want to help him.”

That was his boy – too kind for his own good. Aulea always said she wished her son to grow into kind and decent man and now she would have been proud of him. Regis heart did that painful clench again and he had to swallow to compose himself.

“I know you do and, believe me, I share it. But we still don’t know who this man is or what he’s capable of. That’s why I’ll be present every time you enter his room.”

That made Noctis frown again.

“But he didn’t hurt me, didn’t even try to!” he protested, spreading his arms wide. “And he’s scared of you too, Dad.”

“I won’t leave you alone with him,” Regis stood, towering over Noctis and made his voice sound stern. “That’s non-negotiable.”

Noctis forcefully glared back, then sighed, turned his back and climbed on a bed next to the man in question. That made both adults flinch, though for different purposes.

“Okay,” Noctis mumbled in a pillow gruffly, nestling already, “but we’re going to have breakfast here this time, alright?”

His eyes widened immediately and he jumped up suddenly, turning to the man who almost jumped himself, but otherwise didn’t take his eyes off Noctis the whole time.

“What do you want to eat? Omelet? Scrambled eggs?” the Prince asked, eyes wide and questioning. “Do you like eggs? We can have anything you want, you’re our guest, Dad says we need to consider special menu when we’re having guests, but–”

The idea of letting him near the man seemed miscalculated even more now.

“Noctis,” Regis warned with long, suffering sigh and his son immediately froze, looking at his Dad for a moment and then back at the man apologetically.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. Even Regis saw the confusion and helplessness plain as a day on the man’s face. “I get carried away sometimes.”

He mumbled something more under his breath, but it was muffled and unintelligible. Regis saw his head bowing and clearly saw how the man’s fingers twitched, but otherwise stayed where they were.

“Noctis,” he called again and both his son and the man looked at him immediately. Regis had a silly thought should he snap his fingers at them would they both blink at him identically? “Maybe he wants a shower first?”

Which was out of question, probably, considering the man obviously didn’t want anything with how terrified of his surroundings he was. Except Noctis, of course. Noctis was the one who kept him upright now, it seemed.

Regis didn’t like it, because he didn’t understand.

But a shower sounded good – the man didn’t have one since they found him. Servants managed to dry his hair and change him in new clothes – nothing more. They needed to get him clean to make sure he won’t catch some infection or, Astrals forbid, get one on Noctis.

“Shower!” Noctis eyes lit up immediately again, smile blooming on his face, making it glow in such way Regis heart clenched again. Gods, he loved his son so much.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve asked first,” Noctis, with all seriousness of five-years old looked at the man and pointed in the direction of opposite wall, where bathroom was. “Shower’s there, I’ll show you, come on.”

He jumped off the bed, beamed again and motioned with his hand. A sudden alarm went off in Regis head, but he didn’t have time to even open his mouth, when the man, as if following a new strict rule of his, slipped of the bed and tried to stand.

 _‘Tried’_ was the main word for it, because his legs refused to hold him at all and he crashed on his hands and knees straight away, red hair obscuring his face and all limbs trembling.

Regis quickly stood, but Noctis was like a flash of movement in an instant, throwing himself down on his own knees beside the man. His face was painted with such worry Regis never saw there before.

“I’m sorry!” he babbled, hands shaking. “I’m so, so sorry! I should’ve helped you! Are you hurt? Is it bad?”

The man was panting – it seemed this simple move took all his strength already, but Regis saw the way his hands trembled harder when he slowly tried to sit straighter. Noctis moved even closer and once again Regis was helpless to stop everything happening in front of him when his son’s small hand gently touched the man’s forearm.

Regis stiffened, swaying forward, not sure of what to do – either to stay where he was or to summon his Armiger should something happen to his son in a second. Nothing did, though.

The man stayed where he was and Noctis’ hand stayed where it was. They were looking at each other again without a word.

“It’s okay,” Noctis smiled after a minute of silence. “I’m right here. Are you hurt?”

A long beat of silence and the man suddenly slowly cocked his head to the side. Noctis blinked at him in surprise and then smiled even wider.

“Can you stand up? Dad’ll help if you want.”

 _‘If you allow’_ would have been more accurate, considering the man was still pretty much terrified of Regis and everyone and everything else, except Noctis. His hands twitched suddenly and both Regis and Noctis watched in slight amazement as he slowly tried to stand up. He swayed greatly, but still managed to lift himself upright without immediately collapsing back.

And, Astrals, he was tall – taller than Regis himself. Noctis on the other hand didn’t look taken aback at all and offered his small palm suddenly. The man’s hand twitched again – jerked – then stilled. He seemed afraid to touch, even if minutes before he allowed Noctis to touch him.

When it became clear that he won’t move his hand Noctis moved his own. He barely touched the pads of his fingers, but the man flinched nonetheless. When Noctis made an attempt to draw his hand back the man’s fingers twitched towards him. They both froze again, looking at each other.

Noctis gave a small smile after a second and touched his fingers once more. Regis saw a slight tremor coursing through the man’s back, but this time his son refused to let go. He turned slowly and led him in the bathroom – one step a time, minding the way the man was shaking on his feet.

Regis wanted to move too, to stand at that door and look closely at everything that would happen inside, but instead lowered himself back in a chair and started fumbling with the ring on his finger. Somehow he needed to touch that thing now, even if he didn’t know why.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

The bathroom had a tub and shower both, but, strangely, the latter didn’t have a glass door. Nor there was a mirror on a wall above large marble sink, but Noctis decided to ask Dad later. He bit his lip, thoughtful for a moment, then nodded to himself and started turning water taps on a bathtub. Under different circumstances the shower would have been better, maybe, but the man was barely holding himself upright. Noctis guessed he’d appreciate sitting or even laying down in a bath that definitely could fit three people at the same time.

While the water started running, he slightly tugged on the man’s fingers and led him towards the toilet. Its cap was closed, which was perfect, as Noctis tugged the man down to sit on it like on a chair. He obeyed as always – he did everything Noctis wanted him to and it was kind of strange, but Noct couldn’t think about it too much, not when the priority was to calm him even a bit.

Noctis tried to let go of his fingers and the man’s ones twitched suddenly again, as if trying to squeeze, but there was no actual strength left in him to do it. He was exhausted just from moving to the bathroom, shoulders already slumped and dark circles under his eyes more prominent now. Noctis noticed them only recently.

“I’ll check the water,” he motioned with his other hand to a bathtub, but squeezed his fingers around the man’s. That made the latter shudder and he didn’t squeeze back, but Noctis somehow knew he made a right thing. “I’m still here, I promise.”

He smiled and their hands separated. Noctis rushed to the bathtub, dipping his hand in a water to check the temperature. He was glad someone left the bung in the tub beforehand and it was almost full now, warm and nice.

“Okay, it’s done,” he turned back proudly, shutting the water taps down. The man was staring at him unblinking. Only now, in close proximity, Noctis saw how haggard he was looking. He seemed so exhausted; he would be in dire need of pretty much sleep.

“Um,” his stomach was in knots again, “you’ll get into the water and I check the soap. Or a bath salt? I don’t know what we should use,” he turned to the marble cabinet under a sink. “Maybe I can go ask Dad, but–”

The splash of water made him turn around. The man was standing in the bath, swaying slightly, with all his clothes still on. _‘Got in the water’_ indeed.

Noctis’ stomach dropped.

“No, no,” he mumbled frantically, rushing forwards and grabbing both man’s hands. They trembled so hard. Or was he trembling now as well? “I’m sorry I should’ve–”

The man startled when he grabbed him and suddenly lost balance, crashing on his knees right in a bathtub. Their arms were still locked tight together and the whole movement tugged Noctis in too. He let out a yelp of surprise, falling in a tub right into the man’s side.

The water was warm indeed, but the man– 

He was _so cold_.

Their small commotion must have been heard by his Dad, because he appeared on a doorstep in a moment. His eyes went wide in alarm and he managed to take a step before Noctis threw his arms up hurriedly.

“It’s okay! We fell, it was an accident. Please, you’re scaring him!”

This was truth indeed. The man was shaking so hard now, his pants and shirt completely soaked and stuck to his body. Noctis squirmed to right himself – he knew already the man was terrified of small touches and here they were, pressed to one another in a bathtub. Thankfully it was large enough for Noctis to move to the other end and sit on it, blowing wet hair from his face.

Regis watched him for a long moment, up and down, checking for injures maybe, and heaved a long sigh when found none. Then he glanced back at the trembling man and pressed his lips in a tight line.

“Should I help?” he offered, raising a brow at Noctis.

That would have been better, of course, with Dad being and adult, much stronger and taller than Noctis himself, but the man kept staring at him with frightened golden eyes and Noctis knew they needed to do this alone.

Still, there was something important his Dad could do.

“Um, a new clothes?” he asked, glancing at the man’s soaked ones.

His Dad nodded at that and with one last glance left, closing the door behind him. Noctis heard him telling something to someone and nodded to himself. One down more to go.

He wiggled his feet in water a bit, splashing it and barely stifled a giggle. His pajamas were completely wet by now and Iggy would want to know why. Well, he would have a story to tell.

Noctis slipped out of the bath and checked the cabinet again. There was a shampoo in a simple black bottle and a body-wash in the same one. He unclasped both and made a long sniff – they smelled fine, like his Dad usually did. Maybe he was using this room from time to time, that’s why his toiletries were here. Or maybe he just had whole bunch of them, stuffed in different rooms.

The man shifted suddenly, pressing his palm to the bathtub’s corner to gain some balance and Noctis remembered his duty. He needed to help him wash. Well, he was in a tub already, which was a win. He still needed his clothes off, which was–

Uh.

“Um, okay,” Noctis inched closer and was relived the man didn’t flinch back from him this time. He watched him warily, though, totally confused and powerless. Noctis slowly motioned at his shirt, then tugged at his own. “You need to get this off. Can I show you?”

He risked moving even closer. The man shifted slightly, but not away from him. Noctis showed his hands and slowly, very slowly, touched the man’s shirt. He tugged at it after a beat of silence. The man just looked at him, still confused.

Maybe Noctis was imaging things or did he look a bit less scared now?

Noctis risked tugging his wet shirt up. The man squirmed suddenly, then froze again. Noctis froze too, waited and tried again. Just like he did with a pillow and just like that time it worked. He managed to guide man’s hands and even head out of his soaked shirt and quickly tugged it off completely, dropping on a floor near the tub.

The man just blinked at him, his hair now dark and almost completely wet, plastered to his shoulders and chest. Some strands floated at his back as Noctis watched in fascination. Were they soft? His Dad’s hair wasn’t too soft, just like Noctis’ own, but he got used to it already. Iggy always said his hair wasn’t hard to comb which was good.

The man moved slightly and the water splashed. It was cooling down slowly, so they needed to be quick. This left them with new problem. Pants.

“Now you need to… Uh,” Noctis felt frustration growing inside him. The man needed to stand up or to sit properly to slip his pants off and Noctis was behaving like a _baby_ , unable to explain him what to do.

His Dad returned right at the moment, while Noctis himself tried to slip off his own pajama pants to show the man the exact mechanics. The look on his Dad’s face was strange when he saw them. He entered slowly, trying to be as further from tub as possible and left new pair of clothes and two big towels on a toilet.

“Do you need my help _this_ time?” he raised his brow at Noctis just like he did a few minutes ago and Noct bit his lip in frustration.

“He won’t let you touch him,” he shrugged, looking back at the man. The latter was looking back as always. Noctis saw the way his pale skin was covered in creeps by now and swallowed.

“Even if you ask him to?” Regis specified, brow still raised pointedly.

Noctis swallowed once more, turning to the man who looked frightened all over again. Noctis pressed himself at the edge of a bathtub and gripped its side with both hands.

“Dad’s gonna help you,” he whispered soothingly. “I’ll be right here. Would you… Would you allow Dad to help?”

The man, of course, said nothing. When Regis moved closer he trembled right away, but didn’t try to get out of the bath. Regis crouched at his eye level and showed open palms.

“I won’t touch you unless you’d let me,” he assured in a kind but calm voice.

Noctis made a motion with his hands, as if lifting something from the floor.

“Can you stand up, please?”

The man hunched again, but started getting up. In a slippery bathtub it wasn’t an easy task, but he managed somehow, still swaying. Regis stood too, at arm’s length away.

Noctis slowly reached and touched the man’s knee. He shuddered, the gold in his eyes quickly slipping away by growing pupil.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Noctis quickly muttered, gripping his fingers instead. That didn’t alarm the man this much. “I’m here, Dad’s not gonna hurt you, it’s okay.”

The man just looked at him for a long moment and then suddenly stepped out of a bathtub, splashing water on a floor in pants completely soaked and heavy on his hips. His Dad frowned but not in displeasure when Noctis quickly looked at him. He seemed rather perplexed, eyes darting between Noctis and the man.

Noctis’ free hand started tugging at the side of his pajama pants, as if he tried to slip them off. He made sure to repeat the movement at least ten times, still squeezing the man’s fingers with his other hand.

“Like this,” he repeated every time. “Just like this.”

Meanwhile, his Dad moved to the bathtub, fumbling with something there. Then the water started running again. It seemed Dad decided to pour a new warm one inside.

Suddenly the man gripped his own pants and tugged. They fell with wet noise, pooling at his feet, leaving him completely naked. Noctis quickly looked down, letting the man have his privacy. It was rude to stare, anyway.

By the time he lifted his head again the man stepped back in a bathtub, but lost his balance and stumbled on his knees, gripping the edge with both hands. Noctis slowly touched his knuckles and smiled at him.

Dad slowly handed him a bottle of shampoo and moved back out of the door. Noctis squeezed the white blob on his palm – it smelled good indeed and gently placed it on the side on the man’s head. That made the latter startle, but he didn’t move away.

He didn’t try to flinch from Noctis even when he started slowly spreading the shampoo on his hair. He lowered his head when Noctis asked him to or moved it to the side a bit. His fingers twitched on the bathtub’s corner every time, knuckles white and trembling, but he still didn’t move away.

After a few minutes Noctis asked him to dip his head under water, which the man did after a moment of confusion, but his breath hitched when he emerged back. Seemed this scared him. Noctis swallowed and asked to do it once more, which the man did and, thankfully, that was enough to wash shampoo from his hair. Noctis used a small amount of it, anyway.

When he stepped out of the tub Noctis, looking pointedly at the floor, handed him a towel and motioned to wrap it around his waist. When the man complied he told him to grip it tightly and lean down a bit. The man slowly crouched and Noctis covered his head with another blanket, gently trying to wipe it.

The man was looking at him the whole time with those sparkling eyes and Noctis couldn’t help a smile that bloomed on his own face. He tugged the towel on his head off and used a dry part of it to quickly rub his own hair. Then he slipped off his own pajamas, wrapped himself in a towel for a moment or two and dropped it too, quickly changing in new clothes Dad brought for him.

Then he offered the man his own new ones. Noctis showed the pants and looked away when the man tugged them on, which seemed harder, considering it took him some time to do it. Then he crouched again by Noctis’ command and together they managed to slip the shirt on him too. The clothes seemed a bit loose on him, meaning they didn’t belong to Noct’s Dad, but they were soft and nice.

They stepped out of the bathroom to find Regis in a chair near the bed. He narrowed his eyes at them both, but then nodded as if pleased with what he saw. There was nice smell in a room and Noctis spotted a large tray of food waiting for them on the bed.

He lit up immediately, tugging the man towards the bed with him.

“You’re probably starving by now,” he announced, flopping himself on the bed. The man slowly sat at the opposite end, completely oblivious of everything except Noctis. “There’s plenty for three of us here. Dad, you’d be joining too?”

Regis’ reply was interrupted by a knock and before Noctis or his Dad had time to respond Clarus already entered the room. Noctis immediately grabbed the man’s hand, anticipating his obvious flinch upon seeing a stranger.

“You Majesty, Your Highness,” Clarus bowed. Then he noticed the way Noctis and the man was sitting beside each other, their joined hands, and a deep frown appeared on his forehead.

“What is it?” Regis asked. Noctis, meanwhile, started stroking the man’s fingers absentmindedly.

“The Counsel’s ready, You Majesty,” Clarus nodded his head in a polite bow again. “The daily meeting, as always.”

When his Dad stood up, Noctis’ face fell. He didn’t even need to hear Dad’s next words to understand their meaning.

“Can’t I stay?” he asked hopefully.

“We’ve talked about it,” Regis sighed, shaking his head. “Don’t worry, I’ll still leave Glaives outside, in case he’ll need something.”

“But he won’t tell them,” Noctis looked at the man and saw how helpless his face was. “He’s not talking at all.”

His Dad’s face still wore the same expression of stern determination.

“They will check on him from time to time–”

“They’ll just scare him more!” Noctis’ voice raised high and the man beside him flinched again.

“You won’t stay here, Noctis,” there was steel in his Dad’s voice now and he looked at Noctis with his brow furrowed. “In the evening, when I’ll get back, we’ll visit him again. But now you need to behave, do you understand me?”

Noctis eyes darted involuntarily towards the tray with breakfast. Suddenly he didn’t feel like eating at all. There was that tight knot in his stomach again.

“Yes, I understand,” he mumbled, looking at his feet. He dropped the man’s hand and slowly slipped out of the bed. When Dad held his palm open, Noctis took it.

He tried not to raise his head. Not to look back. Otherwise he won’t be able to walk out of the room at all and disappoint Dad.

He still knew the exact expression the man wore, while he saw Noctis walking away. He gulped and risked a quick glance over his shoulder. The man was looking right at him and the sheer desperation in his eyes made Noctis heart clench.

“I’ll… see you soon,” he promised and let Dad lead him out of the room.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noctis is too entranced and Regis is not happy.  
> What can go wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beware of bits of Ardyn's POV from now on.  
> They are not good.

Once there was something. Not much of it, only pieces, but there still was.

Then there was colorful something and it shattered everything else – even those pieces. It swallowed it, twisted, grinded to nothing.

Since then there was nothing at all.

No voices – just wails and howls.

No faces – just ashen masks with black holes, which moved and blinked.

No world – just hazy fuzziness.

Nothing.

Until a spark of color and then there was something again.

Something with voice and face. Something special.

 _The Special._

The Special brought back the world. Brought back the noise, the color – brought everything back. The Special left and it all left too. Then the Special returned and everything was back again.

The Special touched and it didn’t bring agony and ash. It was something special too. The Special couldn’t be touched in return – because it was _special_.

The world was when there was the Special. Without it there was nothing.

It was nothing after the Special left again.

Blank. Empty. Not something anymore.

The Nothing lowered itself in a fuzzy void. Curled on its side in this void, with its own dark holes looking at the emptiness.

The Nothing waited for the Special to return.

Because only then there would be something again.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

The rest of the morning was spent in a rush: Noctis practically swallowed his breakfast, barely tasting or chewing it at all and leapt out of the table. His Dad didn’t comment on it, but Noctis caught the way his lips stretched in a thin line.

This wasn’t a breakfast like real ‘breakfast’, more like ‘dinner-breakfast’, because his Dad returned from his meeting only by afternoon and Noctis immediately dragged him to the dining room.

He tried not to rush, but failed. He wanted to finish all his tasks as quickly as possible and return to that room. It was important, besides there was an actual mystery there.

Who was this man, where did he come from, why was he like that – all those questions he desperately needed answers for. Dad couldn’t really answer any of them – he just confirmed that he knew as much as Noctis himself did.

This was exciting tenfold.

So he devoured his food in one go and rushed out of dining room with quick wave to his Dad. He wished to return in that room in an instant, but Dad refused to let him there by himself and besides he still had lessons with Iggy.

Actually, Iggy was two years his senior and still studied by himself, to become ‘a proper retainer and adviser to his King in the future’ as his Dad once said. Noctis liked Iggy straight away – he was smart and had a nice voice. He wore glasses, which made him look older than his seven years, not to mention he was taller than Noctis.

So he had his own lessons to learn, which were different from those ones Noctis had, of course, but some of them still matched. Things like etiquette, for example, or foreign languages – they had those together, which was always ten times funnier than to study alone. Iggy even often praised his skills after those shared lessons and Noctis was really happy to hear that from a boy he considered a friend already.

Still this afternoon Noctis wasn’t able to focus on any of these lessons at all. Legs and arms bouncing, head elsewhere, eyes darting to the clock or a door – he was a picture of impatience. Even Iggy sensed something was odd, judging by stares he was regarding Noctis with. Noctis knew his future adviser was not the one to laze so he knew that Iggy might have been even disappointed in him this day.

Honestly, he couldn’t care less now.

Eventually their tutor sighed in defeat and announced the lesson to be over. Noctis immediately jumped up and headed to the door, only to be stopped by Ignis’ voice.

“Your Highness, is something wrong?”

“Nah, everything’s fine!” he quickly waved, but Ignis wasn’t done.

“You seem in a great hurry,” he narrowed his eyes when Noctis turned over his shoulder. “Sure everything’s alright?”

Noctis just opened his mouth to reassure him again, when a thought came to mind. His Dad was against him being in that room all by himself, but he didn’t say who exactly needed to be there with him and the man. So he decided it won’t be so bad to tell Iggy about it.

“I’ve made a friend here, in the Citadel,” he confessed and saw Iggy blinking at him in confusion.

He followed him nonetheless when Noctis asked, but tried to question Noct the whole way. It didn’t go well, because almost all these questions Noctis couldn’t actually answer, which made Ignis suspicious and even a little alarmed, judging by the changing tone of his voice.

When they arrived to the room which had some enigmatic pull over Noct, the Glaives looked at them oddly, but didn’t protest when Noctis said they would go inside. Ignis, though, tried to ask him once more what they were doing here, but Noctis already pushed the door and entered without second word.

First thing he noticed was the tray with untouched food the servants brought in this morning. The mug was full with tea too, cold by now eventually. Noctis started chewing on his lip – the man didn’t eat at all, which was bad. He was so weak and frail already, he needed food.

Then Noctis saw him at last, lying on his side near the bed’s corner. He seemed stiff and cold, eyes unmoving and staring elsewhere. He must’ve noticed someone coming because his head snapped to the side, eyes finding Noctis.

Noct smiled sheepishly, waving his hand.

The man sat up in a flash of movement, looking right at him, with confusion, fear and helplessness mixing together in his sparkling eyes. It created strange effect Noctis couldn’t understand. He kind of hoped the man would be at least a bit glad to see him again, but no – he was still afraid and trembling.

Noctis _definitely_ would need to work on that.

So he strode right to the bed, flopped on its corner and smiled again.

“I’m here,” he announced with hands wide. “How’re you?”

The man didn’t say a word. Obviously. Maybe he forgot how to do it or maybe he even spoke different language. But it seemed like he understood Noctis – vaguely, but still. Perhaps it was that fear he was in that blocked his voice somehow? Noctis didn’t want him to be afraid.

“Noctis, who’s that?” a voice from behind asked and they both startled.

Right, Iggy was there too. When Noctis looked at him again he saw the way his brows were furrowed and fists clenched. He seemed ready to snatch Noct away in an instant, pushing him out of the room. Yes, because he didn’t understand. Well, Noctis for his part didn’t understand much too, but he knew this man wasn’t bad.

“It’s alright, Iggy,” he waived. “He’s a friend of mine.”

“He’s an adult,” Ignis noted for no reason. It was pretty obvious, actually.

“Yeah, Dad somehow found him the previous day,” Noctis shrugged, but that made Ignis’ eyes narrow even more.

“How’s that? Who is he? Where did he–”

The man suddenly jerked his head, as if hearing Ignis for the first time. Their eyes met for a brief second before the man shrank away to the headboard again. Noctis sighed and reached for him and the man immediately locked eyes with him again. He was trembling, eyes dark once more and it frustrated Noctis really hard.

“You scared him,” he accused Iggy, glaring over his shoulder. His future retainer, in turn, raised his brows high, voice incredulous.

“ _I_ scared him?”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Noctis cooed, shuffling closer to the man. He started stroking his fingers, clenched in the bed’s cover, with the tips of his own.

Fingers in question still trembled hard but after Noctis’ caress they loosened their grip on the cover a bit. Noctis smiled when the black of the man’s eyes slowly gave way to gold again.

“Iggy’s a friend of mine,” he reassured, nodding towards the boy in question. The man didn’t move his gaze from him, though. “He won’t hurt you, I promise. I just wanted you two to meet, you already know Dad and now… Come on, Iggy,” he glanced back with a smile. “Say hello!”

There was a long moment of silence, when Ignis just stared at both of them – eyes narrowed, one brow still raised. Then he slowly made a few steps closer, but the man’s breath hitched nonetheless and Ignis froze.

Noctis chewed on his bottom lip, considering what to do. He glanced briefly at the tray of food, still there on the bed and lit up with the idea.

“Hey,” he called and the man’s focus was entirely on him again. “Are you hungry?”

No answer, but by now Noctis didn’t expect one.

“You must be, it’s already two days and you didn’t even drink something. This tray’s for you, actually,” he nodded towards food. “Here.”

He reached for the glass of water, because the tea was _definitely_ cold by now. He held glass with both hands and offered it to the man, who looked at it as if he never saw it before. Like he didn’t know actually what it was.

“You can drink it,” Noctis moved a glass further, right in the man’s arms. They let go of the cover and now lay in his lap, twitching from time to time. He made no attempt to take the glass, looking at Noctis with helpless incomprehension.

Noctis balanced the glass on the bed and raised his left hand. He slowly, showing every move, gripped the glass with it and raised it to his mouth. Then he took one small sip and lowered the glass back on the bed. It seemed the man needed all basic tasks to be shown how to do properly.

It was almost like teaching a toddler to do things for the first time. To introduce the world to him. Someone definitely did it for Noctis – his Dad, maybe, or his Nannies. It was their job – their duty – to help a new person get acquainted with this world. To know it and adjust to it step by step.

This man was a grown-up, though Noctis couldn’t well guess his age with how haggard and absolutely exhausted he looked with pale-gray skin, dark circles under his eyes and lips almost as pale as the skin was.

Despite all that, it was Noctis duty to teach him now. He didn’t know why, but he needed this man to understand the world around. And Noctis was the one to help him with it even if he was still a child himself.

He wondered suddenly what this man’s voice has sounded like. 

He wanted to hear. Wanted _so bad_.

Noctis opened his mouth, but before he could ask the man’s hand slowly lowered to the glass. He clumsily closed his twitching fingers around it and tried to lift. The glass shook dangerously and the man froze. Noctis decided to help and touched the glass too. Together they lifted it high enough for the man to lower his head a bit and take one sip.

He seemed even more confused when he did that, looking at the glass then at the Noctis and back at the glass again.

“It’s okay,” Noctis assured, “you can drink it all.”

Which the man did, almost like following an order – it was rushed and really awkward and the water sloshed down his chin. When the glass was empty the man half-lowered half-dropped it back on a bed, blinking at Noctis and water slowly trickled from the corners of his mouth down his neck and–

And they were frozen both now, their eyes locked and the entire world around them stopped too. Noctis has a sudden thought that now was the moment the man might say something. He didn’t know how he knew it, but there was something _beside_ fear in those golden eyes. Something that tried to surface, to reach for Noctis. His own arm twitched, as he was ready to reach back, even physically.

Then a napkin was offered to him and this trance they both were in broke. Noctis blinked at the napkin, then at Ignis, who was holding it with arm outstretched, but body as far away as possible. His friend’s eyes were still suspicious, but he looked more curious than wary.

Noctis took the napkin with nod and moved closer to the man. He pressed it to his neck, wiping water away, then to his chin. The man looked at him the whole time, barely breathing, but Noctis felt these short puffs of air on his own skin.

They were cold too.

He blinked, realizing the man was now looking down at him, because Noctis almost crawled in his lap by this point. The surprised part was that the man didn’t flinch away, despite Noctis invading his personal space like that. But he didn’t touch him either.

“Sorry,” Noct mumbled, shifting back immediately. He placed the napkin on a tray’s corner and contemplated the food there. Now, from what should they start? He touched the bread, but it was pretty stale already. Then there was cereal in a closed pot. He lifted its cap and smelled – it was rather nice even if cold. No vegetables, thankfully, on a tray. Yes, he could work with that.

It took some time to show the man how to grip the cereal’s pot in one hand and take the spoon in other. He managed it with Noctis’ help too and tried to eat. Noctis was there with a napkin every time and every time he wiped the man’s mouth their eyes met. Noctis smiled each and every time, feeling strange fondness and even pride.

This was his doing. His help. He was good and the man was going to be good too. Maybe not soon, but Noctis was determined to make sure of it.

He almost forgot about Iggy, but the latter quietly moved to the chair Regis previously occupied, silently observing from there. Noctis gave him a smile him too and Ignis slowly smiled back.

When the pot was finally empty, the man lowered it to the tray himself, with some encouraging from Noctis. It clattered loudly and the man flinched. He looked at Noctis quickly, as if afraid he did something wrong, hands hovering over the pot awkwardly.

“It’s okay,” Noctis beamed. “You did so well.”

He was so happy, as if it wasn’t just a breakfast which he taught the man to have. Noctis shifted on his knees, outstretched his arm and lightly patted the top of the man’s head. Almost like a pet. There were even ‘Good boy’ words in the back of his throat, but that actually seemed pretty stupid to say. The man was a person, not a pet.

He startled, eyes going a bit wide and Noctis quickly withdrew his hand. The man blinked at him and suddenly lowered his head again. It was Noctis’ turn to blink at him, but then he felt a huge grin splitting his face in two. He patted him again and smiled, when the man didn’t flinch right away.

After a moment or two, when Noctis sat back on a bed and the man straightened a bit, Ignis cleared his throat. This time it was only Noctis who looked at him – the man’s eyes were still locked on Noctis the whole time.

“I think Gladio’s waiting now,” Ignis reminded, tapping the small watch on his hand and Noctis eyes widened. He forgot about his training! He didn’t want Gladio to be mad at him for being late, even though Gladio himself was grumpy and should relax more.

“Right,” he sighed, not willing to climb off the bed at all. It was more interesting in here. But Dad would be upset, maybe.

He jumped off the bed and stretched with arms raised high. The man blinked at him again when he looked back and cocked his head to the side. He seemed confused again more than scared.

“I’ll be back,” Noctis promised right away, voice all serious. “I’ll bring more food too. It won’t be long, I promise!”

He waived cheerfully and headed to the door with Iggy behind him. He looked back once more and the man’s eyes were on him as always. He didn’t seem so frightened as before and that made Noctis heart swell. He gave another wave and was off.

This time, even when Gladio grunted something about how he was distracted when he should be focused on his training, Noctis didn’t mind it at all. He felt a smile, threatening to scrawl back on his face and it made him even happier than he already was.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

By evening, after a really long dinner with his Dad, Noctis returned to that room again. Dad was with him too, which made Noctis want to complain. He almost told him he was there with Iggy and nothing bad happened, but bit his own tongue before the words came out. Dad would be angry he didn’t follow his word. It would be better for everyone if Noctis stayed silent about it at all.

The man was sitting where he left him, near the tray, with hands in his lap this time. They clenched the cover immediately when he noticed Regis and Noctis had a suspicion that proved itself right a bit later.

The man was able to relax a bit only when he and Noctis were alone. Ignis barely made a real presence in the morning, that’s why the man more or less forgot he was there at all, focusing only on Noctis and slowly opening up to him. But Dad was an adult and an intimidating one, really. He watched the man closely and Noctis understood why, but it didn’t make it easier at all.

The man was scared again – terrified by Regis’ mere presence and it was as if this morning didn’t happen at all. His fingers trembled even under Noctis’ touches and his eyes were black again and he was against the bed’s headboard once more and his breath hitched and it was _not fair_ –

Noctis forcefully rubbed his eyes with clenched fist and suddenly leapt to his feet, fleeing the room completely. He heard his Dad’s voice asking him what happened, but he couldn’t care less. Stomping in his room, he threw himself on the bed and burrowed face against soft pillow. There were footsteps following him but he refused to turn. It was Dad obviously.

The bed dipped a bit when Dad sat on its edge, but Noctis still refused to lift his head. He heard his Dad asking him if everything was okay and whether he felt bad suddenly, but Noctis only clenched his fists on a pillow and said nothing.

Dad’s questions stopped at some point, but he still kept his hand on Noctis back, rubbing circles in his skin. It felt nice other days, but this time it raised all hair on Noctis’ head. He shrugged his shoulder a few times, squirming away and the hand eventually withdrew.

His Dad sighed and wished him to rest properly. When Noctis gave a gruff sniff in response Regis sighed again and left after some minutes. Noctis heard how the door closed and then his retreating footsteps.

Then came the silence and darkness, slowly eating away the day’s light. When the sun set completely, Noctis room was engulfed in shadows as well as his heart. He felt stupid now. Stupid and frustrated.

He fled so quickly – he probably scared the man even more than his Dad’s presence already did. It wasn’t the man’s fault that Dad refused to leave Noctis alone with him, so Noctis had no right to storm out of that room like that, without explanation.

He let out a loud sniff, extracting himself from the pillow. What if the man was now trembling even more than he did already? He was alone, in a room dark and quiet and no one even bothered to show him how to switch on the light! Why Dad didn’t even think of it? That man was so confused, he didn’t know basic human doings, he should be treated accordingly!

Why no one except Noctis saw how he suffered?

He sat on the bed, throwing his pillow to the side. He knew the man suffered, but where this knowledge came from was still unknown. He just knew and that was all that mattered.

He should come back and apologize. He should try and fix the damage he undoubtedly done. His Dad always said that in future, when Noctis would eventually become King, he’d need to be responsible for his own actions.

It was time he started to learn to do it properly. So without second thought Noctis jumped off his bed and warped to that room. He landed on a bed, barely missing the tray with breakfast no one bothered to take away. Maybe Dad wanted to call for servants to come and take it but then Noctis suddenly decided to act like some spoiled brat and he forgot about it. And of course no one came in without King’s orders.

Noctis huffed and sat up.

The man was right there, back pressed to the headboard. He looked at him and when Noctis met his gaze in return he forgot all apologizes he wanted to blurt immediately after coming back. He watched, throat tight and eyes stinging, as the darkness in those eyes slowly slipped away, revealing that sparkling gold he liked so much already.

He watched the man loosing a breath he was holding who knew how long. Watched how his shoulders hunched again, as if he actually let himself relax a bit. Watched how his fingers gripped the corner of nearest pillow, eyes darting between it and Noctis uncertainly.

He watched and couldn’t tear his eyes away.

He barely noticed his own body crawling to the second pillow, where he shook it up and lowered his head on it. He lay on his side, facing the man, letting that smile he held back since afternoon to bloom on his face full force.

It became bigger beyond measure when the man lowered himself on his side too, mirroring Noctis’ pose completely. They lay face to face now, looking at each other, and no one was there except them and the shadows, which engulfed room completely.

They didn’t talk – the man still couldn’t and Noctis didn’t want to ruin this moment with any noise. It was so good like that, just the two of them, on the same bed, breaths even and eyes locked.

He liked it so much.

He didn’t know how many minutes or hours passed. His eyes were heavy by now, though, and the room was completely dark. He could’ve stand and switch on some lamps, but he decided against it anyway. He didn’t want to move at all. It was so good, to rest here, beside this man and stare in his golden eyes, which were sparkling even in the surrounding darkness.

Eyelids heavy even more now, Noctis slowly extracted his hand, palm up, on the bed between them. He smiled, because he wasn’t afraid at all. He smiled because it was so good.

It felt better, though, when the man lowered the pads of his fingers right in his small palm and let Noctis squeeze them. It was much, much better now and Noctis wanted to laugh with all happiness bubbling inside him.  
He could only smile, though, and squeeze even tighter.

He fell asleep, safe and content, but only after the man hesitantly squeezed his fingers back.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

This was exactly how his Dad found them next morning. Noctis felt something that immediately steered him awake and he blinked groggily a few times before realizing what was happening. Regis stood beside the bed, towering above them both, and the man was awake already too and or course he looked terrified beyond himself by Regis’ mere presence.

He was sitting already, eyes black from fear, and his hand trembled against Noctis’ one. That was the exact thing that woke Noctis up. That was the exact thing he didn’t want to happen anymore.

But when he glanced at his Dad to tell him about it all words died on his tongue. Because his Dad was looking at him too and there was _disappointment_ on his face plain as a day. He didn’t even have to say a word and Noctis already slipped off the bed and stopped beside him awkwardly. He tried not to think how the man’s fingers twitched when he let them go.

“Noctis, return to your room, please,” Dad’s voice wasn’t harsh, but it still felt bad.

He didn’t have any option other than silent compliance, but he made only few steps before stopping again.

“Um, he didn’t eat yesterday,” he mumbled, tugging at the hem of his shirt – he didn’t even change in his pajamas the night before. “Maybe, uh–”

“I’ll see to it,” his Dad assured, but his voice was still so stern Noctis wanted to shrink in a corner. “After the doctor’s check.”

Noctis hands stilled right away, head snapped up and he looked at Dad with wide eyes.

“Doctor’s?”

“Yes, Noctis,” Regis nodded, glancing at the frightened man. “Our private physician would check him for any–”

“No,” Noctis frantically interrupted. He didn’t actually understand why the thought terrified him, but he had a vague feeling it wasn’t actually _his_ fear now. “No, no, no, it’s a really bad idea.”

“Noctis,” his Dad sighed patiently. “You see yourself what condition he is in. He may be sick or even injured and in need of doctors check surely. It’s critical to understand what’s wrong with him.”

“But there’s nothing _wrong_ with him,” Noctis felt his lip tremble suddenly. “He’s scared and I don’t want him to be.”

“Man can’t be scared by everything without serious reason behind it,” Regis, it seemed, tried to reason with him, but Noctis shook his head nonetheless.

“He’s not scared of me, Dad,” he stepped closer, fists clenched on his own shirt. “You can see that too, right? I talk to him and I touch him and he doesn’t flinch away from me anymore,” words suddenly flowed out of him in a frantic babble, but he wouldn’t be able to stop them even if he wanted to. “We slept in the same bed and held _hands_ and his are so cold, but they almost stopped trembling, and he’s started relaxing when I’m near, like when we had breakfast together and–”

“Breakfast?” his Dad’s brows furrowed immediately and Noctis mouth shut right away. But the words were already said. “When did you manage to have–”

He suddenly looked at the tray no one still took away and Noctis saw the exact moment he realized that something was done behind his back.

“You came here yesterday,” he stated, as it was obvious for him now. His eyes bored holes in Noctis face, but there was no trace of anger there.

Noctis wished it was, though, because the sheer chagrin that looked back at him with his Dad’s eyes was ten times worse. His stomach dropped below his knees and voice trembled when he tried to explain, even though no amount of explanation would right this at all.

“I just… I didn’t want him to be alone. Dad, please–”

Regis held his hand up and Noctis shut up immediately. He couldn’t even risk a glance at the man, too ashamed and frustrated how everything turned up. His Dad, moreover, walked back to the door and asked the Glaives to come in. They stepped inside, not further than doorstep, but frantic movement still caught Noct’s gaze. He saw the man backing away, back pressed to the bed’s headboard, eyes wide and terrified.

Noctis felt sob clawing at his own throat, but it didn’t come out. Suddenly his Dad’s voice returned his attention to him again.

“From this minute the Prince can’t enter this room without my consent,” he said to the Glaives, but looked at Noctis in the end. “He’s forbidden to come near it or use his magic to warp into it without my permission.”

Noctis felt he might be sick. He clutched his stomach with both hands, eyes wide, and looked at his Dad. There was nothing except seriousness and that previous disappointment on his face.

“No,” Noctis whispered. “Dad, please–”

“Noctis, return to your room, _now_ ,” Regis stressed the last word loudly. “This time I won’t repeat twice.” He looked at the Glaives. “Please, escort Prince to his quarters.”

Then he turned away and stepped closer to the bed. The man immediately flinched away from him and Noctis flinched too. He wanted to tell his Dad he was sorry, to ask him to cancel his order, to beg to let him stay–

He knew his Dad won’t listen. Not this time. 

He barely heard the Glaives politely asking him to follow them. His body moved involuntarily, like it wasn’t his own anymore. He wanted to look back but couldn’t.

Noctis blinked and the next thing he saw he was in his room already. He was alone and he was sad. Not as sad as his Dad, maybe. And he wasn’t scared. The way the man now definitely was – there, with his Dad alone, with doctors that would come and check on him and he won’t understand, he maybe won’t want it, but he won’t be able to tell to stop because he–

Noctis heart a sob suddenly. Then another one. When his face became hot and wet he realized those sobs where his own. He snatched the pillow from his bed and pressed his face against it, curling in the chair near the window.

He wanted to help and somehow made everything even worse. His next sob was louder than previous one and he tried to muffle it against his pillow. Maybe this way it might stop at all.

It didn’t.


	5. Chapter 5

The man’s eyes were glued to the door, locked by some unknown force, and no amount of coaxing from Regis would make his gaze shift. Eventually, Regis decided to give up his efforts and asked the Glaives to bring his private physician. It was reasonable to let him check on the man now.

Regis remembered his son’s eyes, his face when he heard his Dad’s order and winced. It was a harsh blow and he knew that, especially now, when he saw how entranced in their ‘guest’ Noctis was. That didn’t mean Regis would allow his son to stay here with this man they absolutely knew nothing about. He made himself quite clear in the beginning that he would allow Noctis to see the man only together with Regis himself.

It seemed, his son decided to neglect his decision. It couldn’t be helped; Noctis was a stubborn child – that was in him from Aulea and Regis both. But that didn’t mean Regis would allow him to do as he pleased in this case.

So for the time being Noctis wouldn’t be able to return in this room without his permission. It upset him greatly – Regis couldn’t deny what he saw with his own eyes. But Noctis was still a child and they tended to forget bad things quickly. He knew he’d sulk a bit – maybe even a whole day – and eventually would return to his old self.

That ban didn’t mean Regis wouldn’t allow him in this room at all. He would have to wait and then bring Noctis in here again, but this time he would make sure his son wouldn’t want to come on his own again.

All other thoughts left Regis when the doctor came. The man flinched immediately, trying to press himself against the bed’s headboard as if he wanted to dissolve right into it. He watched them both with horror-struck face. Regis sighed, offering his palms up.

“You don’t have to be afraid, no one’s going to hurt you,” he began soothingly and the man’s terrified gaze landed on him. Somehow, if Regis noticed correctly, his condition worsened. He was wracked with tremors non-stop now and it seemed pretty bad.

Regis tried to calm him again, too focused on him to notice how the new glass window started slowly buzzing with tension. Not even doctor paid attention to it, when there was a patient right in front of him, who, judging by his looks was in _dire_ need of medical assistance.

“This is a doctor,” Regis motioned to the one in question and the physician gave a polite smile, which the man barely saw at all. “He’s here to make sure you’re not sick. He… He checks Noctis too, he’s his private doctor.”

The word ‘Noctis’ made the man froze, terrified eyes darting around the room.

He searched for Noctis who wasn’t there.

“Now, you need to calm down,” Regis asked, motioning to the physician to come closer. He did and started rummaging through his appliances. “Let him check on you, okay? It’ll be quick and completely painless, I promise.”

He smiled again in the end, but the man’s mask of terror didn’t change a slightest bit. He flinched really hard when the physician moved towards him, looking at both men with wide eyes. He was even less coherent than that day Regis met him and judging by the way his breathing was coming out in short gasps he was getting worse.

Regis own stomach made a painful twist, when the man recoiled from the doctor once more. The latter hesitated, uncertainty on his face, but tried to soothe his strange patient with kind voice. He told him it was okay and that he won’t touch him, only with just this tiny thing in hand and some other words Regis couldn’t register actually.

When a small stiffened noise escaped the man’s throat Regis held up his hand.

“Enough.”

He thanked the doctor anyway and let him go. After the door closed they were alone again. Regis lowered himself in a chair, elbows on his knees and watched the man intently. The latter swayed hard and suddenly collapsed on his side. Regis stiffened, ready to leap to his feet, but the man curled on his side, breathing shallowly. His whole body shook so hard it almost looked like convulsions now, but there was no way to ask for a doctor again. All they could do now was wait for that sudden seizure to pass.

After long beats of silence, interrupted only by the man’s frantic attempts to breathe, Regis started talking.

“I won’t let my son near you for the time being,” he admitted, shaking his head. He tried not to look at the man, while saying it. “You have to understand: he’s all I have and his safety is everything I can think of. I,” he pressed palm to his forehead when a stab of headache made him wince. “I’m genuinely sorry for whatever happened to you and if it’s in my power I’ll try to help as much as I can.”

He glanced up but the man was still in the same position. Suddenly he stretched his shaking hand across the bed and gripped the other pillow. The one Noctis was sleeping on when Regis found them. The man snatched it to himself, both hands fisted in it so tightly his fingers turned white. He held this simple piece of textile as if it was the most important thing for him in the world.

Regis suddenly felt sick and leapt to his feet, almost knocking his chair back. The movement made the man press the pillow to himself, like he was afraid Regis might try to take it away.

Regis didn’t even think about it. He just stood there for another moment, jaw working, but no words to spill, then turned on his heels and walked away.

He was angry for no reason. Angry and frustrated and it made him want to take that chair he was sitting in and throw it across the room. He wanted to make this man look at him and growl right in those terrified eyes that Noctis was his son and they loved and understood each other and there were never secrets or grudges between them and then this man just appeared and everything was wrong and his son was upset and Regis wanted to scream–

He didn’t. He clenched his fists so hard his palm hurt and walked out of the room, slamming the door shut. His eyes landed on Noctis’ doors and there was a huge rock in his throat suddenly. He tried to swallow it, but couldn’t. He wanted to talk to his son, but he wasn’t sure they would understand each other.

So he retreated to his cabinet where Clarus already waited and tried to distract himself with his work and duty. Everything just to chase all those thoughts away.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

Noctis day was… plain. He had his breakfast – alone. His Dad didn’t come. Then he attended his lessons and just simply did everything his tutor asked him to: turned pages, read paragraphs, wrote down tasks and notes. Like always, but he barely understood what he did at all.

Then there was Iggy and their shared lesson again. It ended and Iggy asked him whether he wanted to go for a walk in the garden. Noctis just shrugged and they went in the garden. The smell there was nice and the weather was nice too. Noctis stroked some flowers absentmindedly, but otherwise just wandered from one corner to the other with obvious disinterest on his face.

When Ignis tried to ask him what happened, Noctis just shrugged. He didn’t want to talk about it. Actually, he didn’t want to talk at all. Eventually, Ignis understood and fell silent too.

They walked like that for a few hours until there was time to train with Gladio. That Noctis did absentmindedly too. If Gladio sensed something was off, he didn’t comment on it. They finished and Noctis left – it was dinner time. His Dad wasn’t there again – the staff assured that the King was having his meals in time, but he was too busy and couldn’t leave his cabinet.

Noctis didn’t even ask and just shrugged. He had his dinner, which was tasteless for some reason, and quietly returned to his quarters. His steps didn’t halt when he was passing the adjacent room. He didn’t even look at its direction.

He sat in his room till sunset, fumbling with his phone and staring at nothing in particular. Then his room was dark again and Noctis flopped on his side, staring at the door.

Maybe Dad was still upset with him. Maybe he didn’t want to eat with Noctis today, because he couldn’t shake the thoughts of his son being disrespectful to him.

Maybe Noctis was bad for not following his Dad’s order. But it wasn’t intentional. He just wanted to help the man not to feel alone and scared. His Dad saw it too; he probably understood that the man was harmless. He was an adult, a tall one, yes, but Noctis knew he was no threat to him or anyone else at the moment.

But it didn’t matter anyway, because now Noctis was forbidden from seeing him at all and the man was alone again.

He definitely was scared now, without Noctis there to soothe him, to smile at him, to squeeze his hand reassuringly and feel him squeezing back. To sleep beside him, welcoming morning together eventually, and see how his golden eyes sparkled even in the darkness.

Noctis pressed palm to his mouth, but a hitched sob escaped nonetheless. He wanted to go back, to push those door between them open, crawl on that bed and held the man’s hand. He wanted to touch his hair again, because it was soft and its color was amazing and the man maybe liked it, because he didn’t move away when Noctis did it.

He wanted to teach him to eat again, to show him how to dress, to wash, talk–

He wanted to go back there and hear his voice. Know his name. He wanted him to be happy and smile at Noctis too. His smile would be so kind, he knew it.

He wanted to do all of it and couldn’t anymore. Not until his Dad allowed him too. But there was a small space separating them now and Noctis imagined the man there, right beside him, lying on his side and watching him with those golden eyes.

Noctis looked at his bed and the man was definitely there, staring right at him, but his eyes weren’t golden, they were black and he was shaking hard, and his face was a mask of terror and his hands clutched a pillow Noctis slept on the previous night–

And Noctis wanted to scream, but no sound came and when he blinked the man was gone. His stomach lurched and he gripped it with both hands. Suddenly the walls closed on him and it was hard for him to breathe here, so Noctis jumped of the bed and leapt out of his room. The Glaives called after him but he shook his head, running away somewhere – he didn’t know where exactly, just as far from here as possible.

Everything blurred for a second, then there was a flash and he found himself in different corridor. That made him run even faster. Those flashes happened two or three times and suddenly there was cold air around him and it rushed in his lungs, making him cough. Noctis whimpered, falling to his knees somewhere and the ground was cold and his stomach still hurt.

He squeezed his eyes shut, curling in on himself and whimpered again.

All he felt was cold and deep pain somewhere in his gut. He couldn’t chase it away; he wasn’t strong enough to do it. All he could do was lie there, whimpering miserably.

He thought distantly that Dad would be mad at him again, but this time he didn’t break his order. He wasn’t in that room. 

He didn’t know where he was.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

The Glaives’ faces told Regis everything he needed to know, but he still entered his son’s room only to find it empty. That made a real anger bubble up in his chest. Why was Noctis so stubborn? Why couldn’t he understand that everything Regis did was only for his sake?

He stormed to the next room without second thought, slamming door open hard. It was dark and Regis fumbled for the switch on a wall. The light flared up above him and he rushed to the bed, arm outstretched, ready to grab his son’s hand and drag him away if needed–

Only his son wasn’t there at all. Instead all he saw was a man, terrified beyond measure, looking back at him. He wasn’t lying on his side anymore, sitting awkwardly on the edge of the bed and that pillow–

That _damned pillow_ was still clutched tightly in his arms.

Anger that dissipated a bit when Regis didn’t see his son in here returned full force.

“Where is he?” he asked and his voice wasn’t calm anymore. He tried to restrain himself still, not to growl, but he couldn’t. He didn’t even try to think that the man probably had no clue where Noctis was – it didn’t matter.

His son wasn’t there! And he needed him to be.

The man didn’t answer – he couldn’t and Regis knew it very well, but he just couldn’t care less. He moved closer, neglecting the man’s flinch completely, and pressed him palm against the bed, towering over him.

“Where. Is. Noctis?” this time he didn’t control his voice.

Nothing. Only that raw terror he knew already.

And, Astrals, he _despised_ it.

“Stop looking at me like that!” his voice raised and he threw his hands in the air. The man recoiled, as if Regis punched him. He was seconds away from doing it for real. 

His hands gripped the pillow suddenly and he ripped it away from the man with such force it flew at the farthest wall. 

“Quit that act, I don’t know what you want and I don’t care. I just want my son back and if you won’t tell me where he is I’m–”

The man jerked to the side, not letting him finish. He more or less fell out of the bed, stumbled and practically crawled towards the pillow, which lay uselessly now where Regis threw it. His hands were shaking when he clutched it to his chest, as if that small thing could protect him or return Noctis to him.

As if it was Noctis himself. 

Regis own body swayed and he gripped the bed for support. He moved from it when the wave of nausea left him, hiding his face in his palms and tried to calm his breathing. He would gain nothing in here, which was obvious. The man won’t answer, because he didn’t know.

He truly didn’t know where Noctis was. He was just there, in a corner of a room, on his knees – haggard, shaken and terrified. The man with no name, no voice and no mind, completely at mercy of the ones who would find him first.

Helpless and pitiful, with his head bowed and eyes full of terror. They stared into nothingness, where the man’s consciousness hided from all those horrors that drove him into that state. Clutching the boy’s pillow to his chest like his only lifeline.

Regis throat was full, but it wasn’t anger anymore. It was something he didn’t allow to escape ever since his beloved wife died. He couldn’t let it out even now. He needed to find his son.

He moved towards the door, barely feeling his own body. His hand switched off the light and closed the door behind him. When he stepped out his face was composed and serious. When he ordered the Glaives to find his son his voice was strong.

When all Citadel sprung to life in search of one boy, Regis clenched his fists and focused only on his son. Nothing mattered anymore. Only Noctis’ safety.

He would tear the world for it, consequences be damned.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

Black holes moved, wailing something at it.

The Nothing didn’t understand.

A part of the Special was with it and then not anymore. It searched for this part and found again. It took it and refused to let go.

It was something. Before it was nothing like the Nothing itself but then the Special touched it and it became something.

When the Special left the Nothing clung to part of it with all it had.

Black holes moved away and the blinding stopped too. The Nothing was in the black again. He knew the black already. It didn’t hurt. The bright did but the Special was with the Nothing when it did and it didn’t hurt that much.

The Special wasn’t there anymore.

Black holes wanted to know where the Special was too. But those holes took the Special away. Maybe they lost it too.

Maybe the Special was lost.

The Nothing looked at the part of the Special. It didn’t want to let it go.

It wanted the Special back. Because then there would be something again.

The Nothing looked around, but the Special was nowhere. He needed to find it. The void didn’t want to let the Nothing go and tugged it back, but the Nothing refused. The void swallowed the part of Nothing but it still searched.

The void was big – it was everywhere – and the Nothing could look through it. It looked back but the Special wasn’t there. It looked down and it was still only the Nothing.

It was still part of the Special too, clutched by the Nothing. Maybe it could find the whole Special with its part. The Nothing clutched it to itself and the void flashed suddenly with something that was called ‘colors’, but the Nothing didn’t know.

All it knew was the Special and it was moving towards it. The Special was there, waiting for it and the Special wanted it to find it.

The void refused to let go but the Nothing moved. The void tugged at it, tearing away huge chunks, but it didn’t matter.

It was nothing.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

When Noctis opened his eyes they were wet. Actually, he was wet too, because there was rain, falling heavily from the dark sky above him. He tried to lift his face to look at it, but the rain slapped him harshly and he quickly tucked his chin to his chest.

He was cold and soaked and–

He was somewhere he didn’t know. There were huge trees and some distant globes of light – maybe lanterns? One thing was obvious though – he wasn’t in Citadel anymore. He didn’t know where he was at all.

Noctis shifted on his knees, looking around himself. This place was empty and the rain was heavy and cold and he started shivering and feeling scared.

He was scared.

Noctis gripped himself with both arms and sniffed loudly. Even that sound scared him and he trembled harder.

Maybe now he’d understand what the man felt, even just a bit.

It was painful to think about him again and Noctis’ lip started to tremble. He wanted to go back, to see him again, to apologize to his Dad and beg him to let him in that room. He would come there only with Dad if he wanted it that way, he’d do anything, he’d behave like a Prince should!

He just wanted to see the man again.

His face started burning suddenly and it took a moment to realize that he was crying again. His stomach didn’t hurt anymore, but now his whole body was cold and he was alone here and the rain was heavy and made such frightening noise. It sounded better when he waited it out in the Citadel.

Noctis wanted to come back home, but he didn’t know where this home was. He wanted to tell his Dad he would be a good boy, but his Dad wasn’t there and he didn’t know how to find him.

He wanted to take the man’s hand, but he was afraid he’d scare him now and Dad might never allow them to meet again and Noctis was _so scared_ –

He wanted for the hands to touch him, to embrace him with warmth. He wanted to share this warmth with the man who was so cold every time, but now he won’t be able to, because Noctis was cold too and the man wasn’t there and might never be and Noctis sobbed loudly, throwing his arms forwards, as if he actually was there and they might touch again–

His hand gripped something and it was cold. Noctis opened his eyes, hiccups tearing from his throat and looked at the man, who was right in front of his eyes, kneeling in the dirt. His soft hair was wet and he was wet too and there was another wet thing in his lap, but his hand–

His hand was touching Noctis’ own and it was real.

Noctis felt a sob crawling out of his throat, but when it did it was a cry. He cried, shaking like a leaf, feeling hot tears and snot streaming down his face, but the rain washed it away and he couldn’t care less, because the man was right here!

He lunged forward, wrapping small arms around his neck and sobbed somewhere in his wet hair, but he couldn’t stop even if he wanted too. It was too much – he was scared and the man in his arms was scared too and his Dad was angry and he might get angry even more that Noctis ran away, but he didn’t mean to and nothing mattered really because the man was cold, but solid against him and now Noctis was cold too and maybe they were alike in this moment.

Maybe they still can be together, if they were alike now.

The man didn’t say anything and Noctis sobbed even harder, knowing he wasn’t able to, but he felt his arms around himself and Noctis clutched at him with all his strength. He was babbling something like ‘I’m sorry’ and other things he didn’t understand himself, but the man just sat there, with Noctis in his arms, and maybe he was still scared, maybe he didn’t understand, but it barely mattered.

Because the pads of his fingers stroked the back of Noctis’ head in feather-light touches and these unsure movements blocked off even the rain’s hits for him.

Noctis buried his face against his neck, hiccupping loudly, and squeezed his eyes shut. His arms tightened too, tangling themselves in the man’s soaked hair.

They were cold and dirty and alone, but somehow Noctis felt better than he was hours ago.

It was good.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

When Regis and two Glaives found them the rain was falling even harder then before. The King stepped on a ground and everything in him screamed to rush forwards and scoop his son in his arms.

Son whose face was pressed tight against the neck of a man, whose own body was hunched around the small boy in his arms. Like he was trying to shield him from the rain. Noctis was clutched tightly to his chest and a soaked pillow was pressed against his side as if in attempt to make him more comfortable.

Regis knew whose pillow it was.

He stood there, with an umbrella opened hastily above him by one of the Glaives and looked at the man with golden eyes protecting a boy from the rain.

As if it was his whole word he held in his arms.

The Glaives opened umbrellas above them immediately and only then Regis moved closer. He crouched beside them and took the towel out of his Armiger (he stuffed it with plenty of those when it became obvious they needed to search for Noctis outside). He pressed it to Noctis head and the man’s arms tightened around his son even more.

“Here, wrap him in it,” Regis asked, showing him the towel. It brushed against the man’s hand and after a moment it clenched around the soft fabric. The man wrapped Noctis in three towels Regis gave him and quickly pressed him to himself again.

His eyes weren’t black when Regis met them for a second. His face lacked the pervious terror. Now he seemed… sad. And worn-out beyond possible. He still looked only at Noctis.

Regis slowly stood and extended both his arms. He didn’t ask to hand Noctis to him – he knew already the man wouldn’t let go. He simply gestured him to try and get up too.

The man did, slowly and shakily, holding Noctis like he was his lifeline.

Maybe he was.

Regis shrugged off his coat and placed it on the man’s shoulders. He didn’t even flinch nor did he looked at Regis at all. His purpose was in his arms, nothing else seemed to matter to him.

Regis watched him and contemplated whether he’d be able to warp the three of them back to the Citadel. He sincerely doubted he was strong enough to do it or whether the man would actually survive it at all with how sick he already was.

The rain made him look like a ghost.

So Regis took an umbrella from the Glaives and held it over the man’s head silently. Just like that they started their slow walk out of the city’s park. It wasn’t far from the Citadel and Regis guessed Noctis just simply warped himself in there. The Glaives told him the Prince leapt out of his room and warped before anyone tried to stop him. They were already searching when Regis returned only to find his son’s room empty, but there were no traces of the Prince in the Citadel.

So Regis decided to search outside and they were lucky the Glaives, warping on a trees and buildings, managed to spot the man and Noctis here.

The man who somehow managed to get out of the Citadel by himself and find his son even before Regis and Glaives did. No one noticed him and how exactly he was able to find the exact spot where Noctis was Regis didn’t even try to imagine.

He didn’t want to think about all that right now. There were more urgent matters to attend to.

They exited the park and Regis helped the man get in the car that waited for them already. He didn’t flinch from it – maybe even barely acknowledged it was there at all. He seemed in some sort of trance, eyes locked on Noctis, arms never letting go. Regis watched him openly but the man didn’t glance back even once.

This was new.

Soon they were already in the Citadel’s hall. Noctis didn’t even twitch the whole time – he was asleep, face buried against man’s neck, breath even and calm. His eyes seemed swollen and puffy – he probably cried really hard.

Regis heart ached for his son.

He led the man towards Noctis quarters this time, where the servants prepared a hot bath already, lots of towels and Noctis pajamas. Then there was a question – the man had to let go of Noctis to allow the servants to wash him, but Regis seriously doubted he would agree to that.

He stiffened, not knowing what to expect now, but the man stopped beside the bath and then suddenly kneeled. Regis was at loss of what to do, his arms twitching uselessly and body swaying forward. What this man–

Noctis mumbled something suddenly and opened his eyes. He blinked drowsily and backed away a bit, but still in the safety of the man’s arms. Their eyes met immediately.

“Hey,” Noctis croaked and the smile on his face was a pale shadow of his previous ones.

The man said nothing, loosing the tight grip on Noctis body but still holding him. Noctis looked from side to side and noticed Regis straight away. His face paled in an instant, but before he could say anything Regis quickly stepped forward.

“There’s a bath, Noctis. You’re cold, you need to warm up.”

Noctis looked at the bath, then back at him. His hands twitched around the man as if he wasn’t sure should he let go because Regis might get mad or clutch harder, showing his Dad he didn’t want to let go at all.

Regis could only sigh at that, but there was no trace of disappointment on his face this time. He reached out and gently brushed Noctis hair from his eyes.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “We need to warm you up, that’s everything that matters right now.”

Noctis turned in the circle of the man’s arms. He cocked his head to the side then looked at the man again and bit his lip.

“Can you… lift me in there?” he pointed at the bathtub. The man slowly straightened up and placed him in. Noctis quickly tugged off his pants and shirt, dropping them on the ground, and lowered himself in the water up to the neck. He sighed, hands splashing a bit, and gave Regis and the man a smile.

Regis motioned servants to enter. One started spreading shampoo on Noctis head, the other prepared towels and clean clothes. They were careful not to startle the man, giving him wide berths as possible. He, on the other hand, looked down at Noctis and paid them no mind at all. Regis noticed him trembling, though.

He just stood there – soaked to the bones like that day Regis met him, shoulders hunched and head bowed. ‘Miserable’ was probably the right word to describe him, but Regis couldn’t.

‘Sad’ and ‘helpless’ were more accurate.

Noctis splashed in a bathtub quite a while. When he tried to climb out the man reached for him, took him in his arms and placed him on a towel the servants spread out on the floor. Noctis blinked, then smiled and started drying himself with a big fluffy towel. The man’s hands twitched every time Noctis made a move, but he didn’t touch him again, just hovered awkwardly.

Noctis quickly tugged his dry pajamas on and grabbed the man’s hand.

“We need to dry you too, come on,” he tugged him down and the man kneeled beside him. Noctis threw another towel on his head and started rubbing it animatedly. He was smiling broader now and chatting almost non-stop.

“You need a new clothes again, right, Dad?” a quick glance towards Regis. “It’s okay, you won’t be cold anymore, and we’re safe now and warm. Do you want to eat, maybe? You didn’t have a dinner, we should have one now.”

He stopped rubbing for a second and the towel slipped off the man’s head onto his shoulders. His hair was slowly drying itself by now, two loose strands framing his face curling slightly. Its color was deep red, like a blood.

Why Regis didn’t think ‘wine’ or some other similitude was a mystery.

“What do you want, hm?” Noctis smiled at the man, cocking his head to the side. “I know you can’t answer me, but you can point out something, okay? We can have a full tray of food, or maybe even go to the dining room now if it’s–” he turned to Regis uncertainly.

Regis opened his mouth to answer.

“Nh…” the sound came, but not from Regis at all.

They both froze. Regis felt as if Glacian herself kissed him on a cheek, turning him in an ice sculpture.

Noctis turned his head back, eyes wide and lips parted.

Then the sound came again and it wasn’t his either.

“No…” it seemed every sound – every spelled letter was sending stabs of agony down the man’s throat.

“What?” Noctis whispered frantically, arms darting forward and gripping the man’s fingers. “What is it? What ‘no’–”

The man looked at him and at first Regis thought it was that familiar fear on his face again. Then the man moved closer, lips parted and face–

Desperate.

He seemed desperate to do something. Helpless and frantic.

“No…” his voice was barely human at all. Like a whimper or a whine of a wounded animal.

Regis saw the way Noctis face scrunched in pain, the way his lip trembled and eyes started watering. He opened his mouth again, to ask the man what did he mean by ‘no’, but then the real answer came.

“No…tis…” the man squeezed out, as if tearing the path for this word out of his own throat. “Noc…tis…”

After that the silence stretched and Regis allowed himself to let out a breath he was holding. He wanted to cringe in pain, but he wasn’t feeling one. It was in the air, in the silence between the three of them.

Suddenly, Noctis dropped the man’s hands and reached for his face. The man didn’t flinch – he barely moved at all, breath shallow, as if those six letters of Noctis’ name drained last bits of energy that at least allowed him to stay upright.

“Yes,” Noctis said then. His voice was small and trembling. Regis noticed tears started rolling down his cheeks. “Yes, it’s my name. It’s mine. And yours– I’m–”

He sobbed, unable to proceed, and lunged at the man, wrapping small arms around his neck. He sobbed, hiccupping loudly, but the man didn’t recoil. He wrapped him in an embrace again. Regis saw the way his face morphed into fear once more, but this time it was different kind of fear.

This time he was afraid to be the cause of Noctis tears.

“Nh…octis…” it came out like strangled whine and Noctis only sobbed harder in answer. The man tugged him in his lap, curling around his small body and tucked his own head in Noctis’ small shoulder.

Regis saw his son’s hands twisting the crimson locks in his fingers, but the man didn’t even grunt in pain. Maybe he barely felt it at all.

Or maybe he simply didn’t know the word for it, because all he knew was Noctis.

His first word was ‘Noctis’.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

Noctis lost the exact moment they moved to the room but it didn’t matter. He was curling on the bed and the man was right in front of him, in similar pose, looking at him and his crimson hair covered his whole pillow.

Noctis turned his head and there was his Dad, standing near the bed with a smile – a small one, but a real smile this time. He wasn’t angry; he wasn’t disappointed in Noctis at all. He just leaned closer and kissed his temple, whispering something soothing in his ear.

When he left the room became dark, but Noctis wasn’t afraid. He extended his hand on the bed and sighed happily when the man’s fingers closed around it.

He fell asleep and there was no nightmares waiting for him in there. Even Carbuncle didn’t come, because this time Noctis’ dream was empty.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this chapter more or less explaines the work's title. Hope you enjoy! Thank you all for your feedback, kudos and comments.  
> If you leave more comments - it'll be a greatest inspiration and also I'll know whether my route this all of this is right)  
> Also about the song itself: I've took "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" and modified its words a bit)

They started slow since then.

Every night Noctis came to the man’s room and slept in his bed. He knew his Dad wasn’t happy with the prospect of his son sleeping beside an adult they barely knew, but he didn’t forbid it either. He only had that tired look on his face which he had all the time he was forced to agree to Noctis wishes.

Noctis himself tried not to make this look on his Dad’s face appear too often.

The man stopped recoiling from the world at large, but people still scared him. He flinched hard every time when someone entered, but otherwise Noctis presence calmed him enough to tolerate others in close proximity.

After few days Noctis tried to coax him out of the room. The man stopped near the doorstep, frozen and shaking, his eyes full of fear. Noctis thought he saw them pleading him not to move any further so he closed the door and let them stay inside.

He tried the other day again. And then the next day. And once more.

By the end of a week the man allowed him to drag him out. There were no Glaives near the room – Noctis asked them to leave beforehand. Actually, their ‘guard post’ near the man’s room became unnecessary, but they still came from time to time. Noctis didn’t say a word about it to his Dad – he didn’t want to argue. Besides the Glaives were good, Noctis liked them. They were loyal and brave and strong and they used Dad’s magic, so that meant they were twice as good, because Dad’s magic was nice.

Noct’s own magic was nice too, because it had the same core as Dad’s – the Crystal, a treasure, hidden in a big room, somewhere in Citadel. It was heavily guarded and protected by all costs. Noctis didn’t even come near it once, but Dad told him everything about it.

He tugged the man down the corridor slowly, minding his unsteady gait. It took Noctis and Regis a few days to notice the man was slightly limping. Dad decided to call for doctors again, but when they came the man got scared right away. Noctis climbed on the bed and wrapped his arms around the man’s neck. He clutched Noctis to his chest immediately, face hidden in his shoulder and his breathing became hard and panting.

Noctis looked at his Dad then helplessly and Regis dismissed doctors with a heavy sigh.

“We need to make sure they’ll be able to check on him one day,” he reminded nonetheless and Noctis agreed with a serious nod.

Since then he tried to introduce the man to people around. He pointed to the Glaives, opening the door wide enough for the man to see someone standing outside and said they were friends. He told him about servants, which brought food and clean clothes.

The man flinched away from everyone, including Regis. Not as hard as at the beginning, but still pretty bad. Noctis, though, only doubled his efforts. He tried not to press, not to startle the man even more. He didn’t want him to be afraid.

He didn’t want him to be afraid _anymore_.

Noctis looked at the man and of course met the other gaze straight away. The man barely looked at his own feet, when he was moving, eyes glued to Noctis by some unknown force. He stumbled pretty often because of it and Noctis tried to explain him to watch his steps. The man listened intently, like he did every time Noctis was talking, but there was no indication whatsoever that he understood.

That painful confusion mostly replaced fear on his face, but Noctis wanted to chase it away too. Sometimes he tried to make the man smile. He smiled at him, told him something nice or some joke, laughing over it by himself, but the man only watched, confused, helpless and–

Sad. His Dad was right the other day.

The man was _so sad_.

That definitely didn’t make Noctis cease his efforts. Even though the man’s sad face was still pretty – and he _definitely_ was pretty, with those golden eyes and pale skin and soft crimson hair – Noctis tried to imagine what his face might look like with a smile on it.

He was positively ecstatic to make that smile bloom.

The man’s fingers twitched in his palm and he stopped right away. Noctis blinked in confusion, looked around and – oh, they were in hall already, with different corridors around them. Light streamed from the ceiling, making golden circles appear here and there, reflection off the black and gold marble.

Noctis thought his home was cool – paintings and carvings on the walls and those big sculptures of previous Kings around him. Those were his ancestors and Dad promised him someday he’d know the name of each one.

The man, on the other hand, was slowly looking around, which was rare for him to do. His fingers trembled in Noctis’ palm and he quickly squeezed them tighter.

“It’s okay,” he smiled reassuringly when the man looked down at him. “We’ll not go too far if you don’t want.”

The man looked at him for a long moment then glanced around once more. When Noctis carefully tugged on his hand he slowly moved forward. Their boots sent a ‘thumping’ echo around the hall.

The clothes were another matter – they still were borrowed. Someone else’s – from the staff or from the Glaives even. At first Dad suggested they took the man’s measurements, but that needed to be done by their royal tailor and given the fact how the man recoiled from other people it wasn’t a good option. Then there came another suggestion – to just drive to their private shops (they had a lot of those, Noctis learned) and buy everything from there. The staff would make sure not to appear in the man’s line of sight and they would take car to travel there with Noctis, his Dad and the man as the only passengers.

It sounded good enough, but firstly Noctis needed to make sure the man would come out of his room without falling into panic attack. That moment of barely-calmness when he found Noctis outside the Citadel and even allowed people around himself to lead him back was gone. Maybe that was a tiny attempt of the man’s consciousness to resurface from the endless depths of fear and sadness he was drowning in.

Noctis glanced at the man and smiled when their eyes met. He intended to hold his hand tightly to pull him out of those depths.

Still there was another matter which bothered Noctis really much. More than clothes and everything else.

It was the name.

It felt bad to speak about him, using only ‘the man’ or ‘he’. It felt bad to refer to him with only ‘you’ or ‘hey’. He needed to know his name, it was really important – more than anything.

He tired to ask him, of course. He pressed his own hand to himself and slowly said “I’m Noctis”, then pressed it against the man’s shoulder “And you?”. But of course the man just looked back and didn’t say anything.

All he managed to say now was–

“Noct…is…” he called suddenly, tugging at his arm and Noct immediately stopped.

“What is it?” he muttered. “Are you tired? We can go back.”

He pointed at the direction they came from, but the man didn’t even look back. Instead he slowly, shakily lowered on the knees and tugged Noctis against himself.

“Noct…is…” he mumbled against his shoulder, tucking his head there and Noctis hugged him back, stroking his soft hair soothingly.

“Yes,” he whispered. “I’m here, I’m here.”

The man was shaking – not hard, but non-stop. They stayed like that for a long time, in each others tight embrace until the trembling eventually calmed enough. Then Noctis took his hand again and they returned. He guided him to his room this time – Dad allowed him to bring the man there and even let him sleep in Noct’s bed.

There Noctis sat the man in a chair and opened his books – it was time for classes, which, unfortunately, no one bothered to cancel. He tried to hint he was burdened with ‘The Task’ right now and definitely had no time for lessons, but his Dad just lifted his brow and had none of that.

Sometimes Noctis needed to go to study room, where he usually sat with Iggy and their tutor. He felt bad leaving the man for that time, but he couldn’t bring him in there either – the man would have been scared of the tutor right away. Maybe of Iggy too, though he already knew Iggy more or less.

Noctis stared hard in his book – it was some Lucian literature, some short tales for children with deep meaning in each of them. He barely noticed that he started mumbling some parts under his breath until the man suddenly leaned closer to him. Noctis blinked and stopped. The man immediately straightened back, confusion on his face.

He seemed almost… guilty to startle Noctis like this. Noctis shook his head and reached for him. The man slowly reached back and their fingers brushed.

“You want to listen?” Noctis asked and started reading again, aloud this time. The man watched him, almost unblinking and Noctis knew he understood: his fingers twitched when there was some sad part in the tale or relaxed when it was something positive or funny.

They tried to do it more often since that day. Noctis showed him letters, spelling them slowly and loud for the man to understand – like teaching a baby to learn alphabet. The man listened but it wasn’t clear whether he understood even half of it. The painful helplessness on his face was present even during those lessons, but that only made Noctis try harder.

The man cocked his head to the side when Noctis spelled the letters of his own name – those ones gained a reaction. The man leaned in, looking at the book, then at Noctis and the confusion in his eyes merged with something–

Noctis was afraid to call it ‘awe’ but that was definitely a right word to use.

After a week of words-using Noctis showed him the whole alphabet and tried to coax the man to point the letters of his own name. It took a few hours of the man staring at the book then back at Noctis with helpless incomprehension.

By the end of the day he pointed out ‘N.O.C.T.I.S.’ with his finger and blinked when Noctis let out a disappointed groan.

The next day they wandered the halls again. The man didn’t get scared like last time but Noctis saw he was tired after an hour of walking – he paled even more and his eyes were narrowed in exhaustion. They returned to Noctis room where he read to him till dinner – they were lying beside each other on a bed, content and safe.

The dinner upset Noctis a bit, because of the fact that the man barely picked food – he ate only something Noctis gave to him and still not fully. Maybe his stomach was sensitive or he didn’t like their food – Noctis made a mental note about it in his growing list of things to know about the man.

Anyway he noticed, not for the first time, how the man’s hair kept sticking to his mouth when he ate or fell onto his eyes. When the servant came for their tray he asked her to bring something to tie hair with. She returned with a comb and some cords – thin, but firm. They were not too long, blackish and brown and Noctis tried to tie one around his arm. It was tight, but not rough – perfect for his idea.

He climbed beside the man and started stoking his hair, combing it. He liked it very much – it was long and pretty and so soft – softer than Noctis’ pillows even. It smelled nice too, because Noctis was helping the man to use Dad’s shampoo on it, but it created some wonderful effect: Dad’s and the man’s smells were completely different, despite them using the same thing for their hair.

Dad’s smell was strong, a little bit tart even, like cologne he was using (they were of the same brand). Noctis was used to it already and he always thought it smelled cool. ‘Regal’ – accordant to Dad’s name.

But the man’s hair smelled of something distant, something barely there at all – Noctis couldn’t even guess what this smell resembled. It was barely noticeable, like a light touch to the very tips of the man’s hair – fragile and delicate, ready to vanish in an instant.

Noctis knew he’d never told anyone, but this smell he liked even more than his Dad’s.

His hands were too small to comb that hair properly, but he tried really hard. He used the comb at some point and the man didn’t even twitch when it caught on some mats here and there. Noctis took the brown cord and tied the man’s hair in a loose ponytail somewhere at the level with his shoulder blades. He left two long strands framing the man’s face and nodded at his own work.

The man cocked his head to the side and blinked at him. Noctis just beamed, took the book and started reading to him again.

Each day they walked further and further and Noctis each and every time smiled at the man reassuringly, told him how good it was that they walked longer now, how he was happy and hope the man was happy too. The latter just gazed at him, no word except ‘Noctis’ on the tip of his tongue, but walked beside him with hands entwined.

One day Regis asked them to go for one of the dressing rooms they had in the Citadel. When they arrived there were piles of clothes on racks and hangers: shirts, trousers, sweaters, boots and so on and so forth. Noctis stared at his Dad, mouth agape, and the latter just shrugged.

“We can’t bring him to the shop still,” he glanced at the man, who looked around with helpless confusion on his face. “But we can bring the shop here,” he looked at the variety too. “Not the whole shop, of course, but there’s still plenty of things to choose from. Go ahead,” he nodded at Noctis.

Noct let go of the man’s hand, jumping in his Dad’s embrace with happy “Thank you!” and laughed when the latter grunted. His strong arms embraced Noctis in a tight hug, then Dad kissed his hair and let go. There was warm smile on his face.

“Take as much time as you need,” he told them both, glancing at the man too. The latter blinked at him and just looked at Noctis again. 

Noctis tugged him to the first rack, inspecting clothes on it closely. He missed the moment his Dad was gone, touching the fabric of few shorts and thinking, was it soft enough or not. Although all materials felt nice and he tugged few shirts from hangers, inspecting them critically.

Simple colors – black, light-grey, dark-grey, brown, deep green and blackish-red – this was nice for a grown-up. Still Noctis searched more. Some hangers were thankfully not too high for him to reach, but with some he needed help. He tugged on the man’s arm and guided it to some higher hangers. The man touched one shirt, stroking the fabric absentmindedly. It was dark-grey with a thin stripe of floral pattern on its front. Noctis liked it.

When he guided the man to try it on he liked it even more.

They man took every piece Noctis pointed at, not once choosing for himself, but that was fine for now. Noctis knew it was still too much for him, besides he was positively happy himself to dress the man up in new clothes. Some of them fitted him quite good, some didn’t, but there was a plenty to choose there.

When his Dad returned Noctis pointed to the average pile proudly and Regis gave him another warm smile in return. Noctis hugged him again after that, then ran to the man and hugged him too. The latter startled a bit, but not in a negative way – sort of like out of surprise, but hugged him in return nonetheless.

Noctis sighed and smiled in his arms. They still had a lot work to do but everything started getting better. 

They will be better he was sure of that.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

The sky was so grey and cloudy it was impossible to tell whether it was almost evening or a day still. Noctis sighed, clutching the balcony’s railing and peeked down. He saw the Citadel’s large square and the Glaives on it. Some of them stood near the gates at attention, some were talking with their superior, probably – it was hard to tell from where Noctis stood. Then they started moving again and suddenly warped somewhere.

Noctis beamed instantly – he liked when the Glaives warped. It was accompanied with a sound and blue or silver lights. It looked really cool and he hoped it looked cool when he did it himself. He couldn’t tell for sure, actually, because it was so fast he didn’t have time to notice.

He wished someone would tell him, though, that it looked as cool as the Glaives did it. Maybe he should ask Dad or–

He looked at the man beside him. He was standing near, looking somewhere. It wasn’t a long look, because then he started to look at Notcis again, but Noct wondered whether he saw the way the Glaives warped. Did he think it was kind of cool too?

Noctis didn’t want him to think it was cool, really. He wanted the man to like how he warped, not the Glaives.

So he tugged on his arm and they went to the training hall, where he usually trained with Gladio. But he did it earlier this day so the hall was empty now. Perfect for the thing Noctis wanted to do.

He led the man to the center and spread arms wide.

“I’m gonna show you something really cool!” he announced proudly. “It may be fast, but I think you’ll see. Don’t get scared, it’s called magic. It’s what Dad usually uses, though he didn’t show you it yet, I think. Anyway!”

He beamed wide and run a few meters away from the man. He waived at him cheerfully, then leapt forward and warped. He appeared in an opposite corner of the hall and grinned – he didn’t stumble. He quickly turned to the man to tell him he was here.

The man was looking right at him already.

Oh, then he definitely heard that warping sound and saw those lights.

“It’s okay, I’m here!” Noctis waved once more, jumped to the side and warped again. This time he appeared in another corner and quickly glanced up.

The man was looking at him once again.

Noctis beamed, running towards him. When he was at arm’s length he warped, reappearing right behind the man. Except he intended to appear behind, but the man was in front of him with the same unwavering gaze of confused golden eyes.

Noctis furrowed his brow, but continued nonetheless. He warped, appearing in different corners of the room and different places and every time he met the man’s gaze right away. Of course he didn’t want to startle him or something, but this wasn’t cool too. The whole warping thing was purposed for appearing unnoticed to others!

Maybe next time he should jump higher?

Noctis looked to the side – there were few training machines Gladio used sometimes. Well, he told him he used them, but Noctis didn’t see it even once. Still, they were high enough for his idea and he ran to the nearest one, climbing on it. It swayed a bit under him, but he just giggled from the motion.

When he was on top he straightened up and waved at the man. The latter was standing in the center and looked at him. He didn’t wave back and from Noctis’ spot he seemed smaller now.

“Look closely!” he spread his arms wide and jumped as higher as he could.

This time he heard his own sound and felt his body disappear – it was really great, just like he thought, but when he appeared again he wasn’t standing. He wasn’t laying either. He managed to catch a glimpse of ceiling right in front of his eyes. It was somehow really close.

He wasn’t standing or lying.

He was falling.

He shut his eyes instinctively and tried to warp again. The sound came, the disappearing feeling didn’t but the next thing he felt he crashed into something warm. Noctis yelped and opened his eyes.

He was in the man’s arms who now was sitting at awkward angle on a floor and looking down at him. Noctis looked back – his heart was beating so fast it ringed in his ears. The man’s heart was beating the same way – he felt it too, pressed to his left side tightly. He was cold, as always, and his face wore that painful confusion as always too.

Noctis felt bad for some reason and lowered his gaze.

“Thank you,” he mumbled, ashamed of himself for acting so recklessly. It was a relief his Dad wasn’t here with them; otherwise Noctis would have been in trouble.

“Noctis…” the man said in return. He was able to say his name in one go, without pauses between letters now. His voice still sounded weak and too soft, but Noctis liked it nonetheless.

“Okay, wasn’t so cool, actually,” Noctis giggled at last, making himself comfortable in the man’s arms. The latter slowly stood, clutching Noctis to him and walked out of the hall.

They spotted two servants on their way back, but the latter’s just bowed wordlessly at them. Noctis waved back every time, his other arms snaked around the man’s neck.

“It’s not fair, really,” he pouted finally, when they were not far from Noctis quarters. “How come you knew where I’d appear every time? Was it the sound that gave me away?”

The man didn’t answer him as always and then they entered the room and there was Dad already waiting for them with a large tray of food. He smiled and kissed Noctis head, when the man lowered him on a bed and Noctis forgot all about his failed attempts at ‘cool warping’ and the fact that the man somehow knew where he’d appear each time.

It was nothing important, really.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

That night Noctis dreamt of falling, but there was no ceiling above him, nor there was a floor to fall on. He opened his eyes with a start every time which was pretty often already. He rubbed them with a fist and suddenly saw the man watching him.

Noctis sighed, lowering himself down again.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” he mumbled, not feeling sleepy at all. What point was in sleeping when he’d fall in his dream again and wake up?

The man’s eyes lacked any trace of sleep in them too. Noctis wondered suddenly, whether he fell asleep at all. So he propped himself on an elbow and moved closer.

“Are you in-som-ni-ac?” he slowly asked with a hint of a smile. He liked that word, waiting for an opportunity to use it properly one day. “Me too, today that is,” he flopped back on a pillow with a sigh.

He glanced to the window and noticed that its curtains weren’t closed. He saw flickers of far-away lights, illuminating the Citadel’s whole territory. They were pale-gold, just like the man’s eyes. Except the man’s eyes weren’t pale – their gold was deep and beautiful and it sparkled sometimes.

He looked at the man again. His face was casted in shadows, creating dark spots under his eyes and in the hollows of his cheekbones. Noctis little by little crawled even closer to him and the spots slowly faded as if his mere presence chased them away. It was just a trick of a light, still.

“You know,” Noctis whispered, nestling beside him, “my Mom used to sing to me when I couldn’t sleep.”

He sighed, closing his eyes for a moment, whishing he could remember his Mom’s face or voice. He knew he won’t be able to recall any of it, but he wished nonetheless.

“I don’t remember, really,” he admitted and his voice sounded really sad even to his own ears. “But Dad told me she used to. She had this pretty song she sang only for me,” he smiled, imagining a beautiful woman sitting on a bed beside them at this very moment. “Dad told me the words, but he didn’t sing. He said his voice is not so pretty,” he giggled quietly.

The man shifted his head on a pillow a bit and sighed. His gaze never left Noctis.

“Do you want me to sing it to you?” Noct asked sheepishly. He never did it before and probably his voice was too small and squeaky, but maybe that would help the man fall asleep. “If it’ll be bad, just squeeze my hand and I’ll stop, alright?”

He reached for the man’s hand and their fingers entwined again. The man didn’t say anything, just squeezed Noctis’ small hand already and proceeded watching him.

Noctis shifted from side to side, as if gathering up enough courage and slowly started the song. It was mostly whispering, than singing but he tried to keep the rhythm steady and make his voice sound nice. The words were too pretty to ruin them with bad performance.

_Close your eyes my distant star,  
How I wonder what you are  
Up above the world so high,  
Like a diamond in the sky  
When the blazing sun is gone,  
When he nothing shines upon  
Then you show your brightest light,  
Gaze upon me all the night,  
In the dark blue sky you keep,  
While you through my curtains peer  
And you never shut your eye,  
Till the sun is in the sky_

The man’s fingers twitched somewhere in the middle of the song and Noctis faltered, wondering should he stop, but the man squeezed his fingers right away, as if pleading him to proceed. He did it again when Noctis finished and so he started the song for a second time. It was nice and he liked it himself so it wasn’t hard for him to whisper it twice or more.

On a third round he closed his eyes, humming it under his breath mostly, and smiled sleepily when warmth engulfed him.

This time he didn’t fall.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone remembers that it's a Canon Divergence story, so, basically, something happening in it may be sudden for you. But, anyway, hope you'll like it!  
> And please, mind the tags and beware of some dark, disturbing and even cruel moments in this chapter.  
> As always, your feedback will be highly appreciated! Thank you)

The rain was falling hard. Regis sighed, giving up attempts to look out of his car’s window and told his driver it was okay to slow down a bit. There was no need to speed up on a slippery concrete.

Citadel loomed somewhere not far ahead and Regis closed his eyes, imagining hot bath waiting him in there. Then he’d have a late dinner with his son – Noctis would tell him everything about how was his day.

Theirs. It was _theirs_ day now.

Regis propped his chin on a hand and hummed thoughtfully. A few weeks ago he asked Clarus to try and find everything possible on their ‘guest’, but all attempts failed so far. It wasn’t an easy task, of course, given the fact they knew nothing about the man – they didn’t even know from where to start at this point. Yet Clarus tried, but in the end nothing helped.

The man couldn’t have just appeared out of nowhere – it was impossible. Everyone had a background, but the man’s case was a unique one. Regis was certain the man suffered consequences of brain damage or a mental trauma of some sorts. That’s why firstly Clarus searched all their hospitals and mental facilities for news about a patient who managed to escape.

That led them nowhere either.

Regis pursed his lips, rubbing his middle finger. It itched lately – the skin right under the Ring. Today it was worse than ever with tiny needles spearing his whole arm.

He wanted to go back home right away, all that weather be damned. He would have warped if his temper snapped, but Regis tried to calm himself with slow breathing.

He wanted to hug his son.

The car stopped.

Regis blinked and looked at the driver – the man was still sitting, frozen to the spot, arms clenched on a wheel. He didn’t even turn in his King’s direction. Regis frowned and called him. No answer came, just silence.

Complete silence.

The rain was silent now too and the air felt stable, ringing with some tension Regis couldn’t understand. What he could understand was the fact that he needed out, so he pushed his door open and rose out of the car.

The rain stopped indeed – disappeared in an instant, but the clouds were grey and heavy. Citadel loomed at Regis’ back – tall, dark and quiet. It never was dark – not even at night. There were always lights on it, turning it in a shining heart of the city.

Regis wanted to go there, but his legs stopped working. He just stood, unmoving, and watched. Watched how the sky slowly shone with pale-grey light. Watched how enormously tall figures started appearing behind those clouds – the outlines of their armor vague, but Regis knew each and every one of them.

He could lift his hand and so he did and the Ring of Lucii was glowing in that same pale-grey light on his finger. Regis clenched his fist and looked up.

The Kings appeared around him – thirteen of them – great, unmoving and silent as those statues around Insomnia. Regis knew they watched him and he bowed his head politely, but still no answer came. The Lucii never appeared like that before, it alarmed Regis a great amount, but he tried not to show it on his face. His heart was beating fast enough in his chest anyway.

He glanced at the Founder King – the Mystic and suddenly there was blinding flash of light and Regis felt all breath leaving him. He saw only white for a moment and then a massive figure obscured it for him. Bigger even than the Lucii. Bigger and different.

It had wings.

Regis knew what those wings consisted of.

He wanted to bow or to close his eyes in reverence, but the figure was all-consuming, encompassing everything around them. He couldn’t tear his gaze away and he couldn’t see this figure clearly either. He didn’t need to, anyway.

The Draconian himself loomed above him and when his wings shifted Regis heard a voice. It seeped in his ears, load, clear and imperative. He probably should have been afraid, but Regis couldn’t.

Not when the meaning of words came to him like a strike of lightning.

In a flash of eternity compressed to mere seconds Regis learned everything the Draconian needed him to know.

He knew the truth and–

–he wanted to throw up.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

When Regis returned to Citadel, he didn’t come to his son’s quarters. The echo of his boots were loud against castle’s walls but the look on his face, though–

It was something he didn’t want to know for himself. But he could’ve guessed, judging by the way the staff looked at him. How quickly they looked down, bowing, when they met his eyes. How hastily they retreated out of his way.

It was good, actually. Regis thought he might kill someone standing on his way now.

He tried not to think about whom _precisely_ he wanted to kill at the moment.

He stormed into his cabinet, barking an order to the servants to immediately fetch Clarus. He missed the moment they lunged to fulfill his order – he didn’t care at all. When his Shield and friend came Regis snapped his head towards him and saw the way Clarus’ throat bobbed nervously.

“Prepare everything for my immediate departure,” Regis ordered and didn’t recognize his own voice. This low rumble, filled with something he tried not to name yet, couldn’t belong to him.

Yet it did.

“I need to leave as soon as possible,” he gripped the Ring on his finger. Clarus said nothing, just bowed and was off in an instant. He didn’t try to ask and Regis was distantly glad for that.

He wasn’t sure what answer he might give. But it didn’t matter at all. Nothing mattered except the fact that Regis needed to be somewhere else right now. In a place he never was, just like his father before him and his father’s father too. 

He didn’t want to go but needed to nonetheless. It was critical, more than anything right now.

He needed to see for himself.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

He saw a cold stone, grey and tainted with something invisible Regis was afraid even to name. He saw the crack in a ceiling, showing grey clouds above with rain seeping through it, making clicking sounds every time it fell on a floor.

Because there were chains on that same floor – huge and thick, with spears, hooks and spikes on their ends. Rain was hitting them non-stop, clicking and clicking till Regis wanted to cover his ears tight and block this sound out of his head.

But more than that he wanted to _scream_.

He wanted to scream, to wail, to howl like a creature from the Underworld and for his scream to shatter these damned walls with its force. He wanted to stomp on those chains, pressing his boots down until they turned to ash and then he’d take the ones that were still hanging off the walls and rip them to shreds with his bare hands.

He wanted to destroy this wretched cave and dig a new one, as deeper as possible. He wanted to make a grave out of this island, drowning it completely in the surrounding depths.

Together with _the thing_ that shouldn’t have been able to walk out from here.

 _The thing_ that appeared on his doorstep, ate his food, slept on his bed and–

Touched. His. Son.

Regis swayed, arm darting to grip the nearest wall for support but he jerked it away to his chest quickly. Nothing would make him touch this place – he was sick enough just standing here.

He needed to go back and rip Noctis out of the thing’s arms. He’d take him somewhere safe, where nothing would find him and then return and strangle the cursed life out of the creature’s body with his bare hands!

The Draconian and his _prophecy_ be damned. He won’t let them take his son.

He won’t let Noctis die.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

When at last he entered his son’s room, Noctis was sleeping, curled on his side with a smile on his face. Regis leaned on the doorframe when a wave of relief surged through him, seeing his son safe and unharmed.

He looked at Noctis and felt love that made his heart swell. His son’s hand twitched and he clenched his small palm around–

Regis turned his gaze to the left. All thoughts and feelings left him in a rush, leaving only two of them he was totally fine with. Rage and hate.

The thing didn’t notice him. Didn’t as much as acknowledge him. Its eyes were on Noctis, its hand were touching Noctis’ own palm.

Its eyes. They were golden.

Regis looked and thought “A monster”. 

Except it wasn’t _just_ a monster. It was _Adagium_. And it wanted to kill his son.

He barely noticed himself moving, but in a flash he was near the bed already. His teeth ached from how hard he clenched them, grinding them to each other with such force it hurt his skull. Hands formed in fists shook with barely suppressed rage. Maybe he looked like a monster too in that moment, because when the creature noticed him at last it flinched. Regis wanted to smile. He felt good. Seeing its fear was good. He felt something ugly tugging at his lips, felt something even uglier on a tip of his tongue not tearing his gaze away from the gold of the thing’s eyes.

He wanted to tear those eyes out with his fingers and crush them in his palm.

When he lifted his hand the man flinched again, his fingers squeezing Noctis’ hand tightly. The Prince made a gruff noise, mumbled something under his breath and opened his eyes. They blinked sleepily a few times and landed on Regis.

Noctis smiled – dizzy and warm, hair ruffled and eyes shining.

Regis wanted to weep. All dark thoughts and intentions seeped from him in an instant, leaving him trembling from sheer effort of staying upright. The sight of cloudless sky of his son’s eyes made his brain click in place and Regis–

–was _terrified_.

He mumbled something like “Sorry, go back to sleep” and quickly left the room. He couldn’t even think that he left his son with that thing in there again. No, everything was too much for him now. He barely managed to storm into his private chambers, throw open the bathroom door, before his stomach lurched and he doubled over, heaving harshly above the toilet. Nothing came out, but he panted like it did.

He was beside himself mere minutes ago – beside every reason, but that was his son at stake. His son that looked at him with bright and innocent eyes – so pure and clear. He took his father out of that armor of hatred, rage and loathing he wore after the Angelgard with one simple smile and Regis wanted to cry with joy because of it. His son helped him not to cross the line he was ready to cross only minutes ago.

His boy was a blessing of the Astrals themselves and that was the reason Regis won’t let them take him back.

He wanted to smear his own hands with creature’s blood, but he refused to give in to that urge now. He’d have it other way. Even if The Kings themselves voted for the first option. They gave him their call, they addressed him with their voices and they fell silent when the Founder spoke at last. Though the Mystic’s words were completely the same. His deep and hollow voice echoed in Regis’ head – harsh and demanding. He told him _the thing_ was weak now and could easily be killed. He told him the Kings would summon all their magic for Regis, they’d guide his hand and help him make final blow.

He told him that the Prophecy still was in a distant future and Regis could change fate right now. He told him _‘Adagium must be killed’_ and Regis heard his own hatred in Founder’s voice.

He returned to his room and fell on his bed with a suffering sigh. He felt drained, worn-out to the bone. Everything was upside down now. Why it happened to them?

No one answered, of course. Regis closed his eyes and saw chains on the floor and walls. They were undoubtedly created by powerful magic, if not by Astrals themselves. Yet they were broken.

Would his magic be enough? Would all King’s magic be enough?

He didn’t want to but he knew the answer already.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

Noctis laughed, dragging the man down the corridor enthusiastically. They weren’t running – it was too soon for that – but still moved faster than before. When the man’s limp worsened, Noctis slowed down and waited until it got better. Then he tugged them forward again.

They took the elevator which brought them higher and higher with every second. The man shifted uneasily in it since the first time he and Noctis rode in it, but he didn’t seem scared, just confused, as always.

Noctis gripped his hand with both of his own and smiled broadly. The man slowly, hesitantly, squeezed back, but he didn’t smile. 

He still didn’t.

The elevator chimed and Noctis beamed, leading the man out of it. They stepped on a highest floor of one of the Citadel’s towers and walked straight to the large windows. Noctis smiled again, spreading his arms wide.

“And this,” he announced nodding towards the large view of a city underneath, “is Insomnia.”

The man just stared at the window, no trace of emotions except the usual ones on his face. Noctis felt a pang of frustration at that – he hoped the man would at least show a surprise from such view. It was pretty amazing after all.

Noctis moved to the windows on the left and looked in awe at the glowing pillar of light, streaming from the center of Citadel. It even reached the sky, making it glow too. Dad once told him it was powerful magic for city’s protection and Noctis immediately bombarded him with lots of questions but Dad just chuckled and told him he’d knew when the time comes.

Yet it was great and Noctis knew it was Dad’s magic in there. He felt proud that his Dad’s power was the main source of protection for their city.

He came up to the man and tugged on his sleeve, pointing towards the light.

“That’s my Dad,” he announced proudly. “That’s his magic.”

The man looked at the light and it danced in his golden eyes, creating this strange effect – they seemed purple when it reflected in them. Noctis liked their true color more, but it was kind of cool too.

The man slowly stretched his hand out and pressed his palm on window’s glass, as if trying to touch something. He didn’t flinch away from it, but Noctis saw a tremor coursing through him.

“The city,” he pointed again, pressing his own palm to the window too and smiling at the man. “Insomnia.”

The man’s palm slowly slid off the window and suddenly he sat on a floor, kneeling beside Noctis. His gaze fell on him again and it wasn’t reflecting light anymore. Nor was it golden.

It was black like the day they met for the first time. Black with terror making his pupils wide.

Noctis threw his arms around the man’s neck right away, alarmed by this sudden step back in their progress. He was so happy the man started to crawl out of those terror-filled depths of his mind and now Noctis took him here and there it was again.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered anxiously, moving back a bit and looking in his eyes, trying to block the city’s view from him. “Are you afraid of heights? It’s okay, we’re just go down now. Don’t be scared, please, everything’s fine, you’re safe, I’m here.”

“Noctis,” the man called in a small desperate voice and Noctis swallowed hard, hugging him again.

It took some time before Noctis managed to coax the man to stand. He tugged him to the elevator, stroking his hand and looking at him the whole time. The man looked back too, but Noctis wasn’t sure he saw him with how terrified his gaze was.

By the time they returned to the man’s room he was nearly catatonic, barely walking at all. Noctis had to talk to him the whole time, telling him to lie down, to lower his head on a pillow, to close his eyes. Except the last part wasn’t possible – the man still stared at him with a far-away gaze.

Noctis swallowed again, kicked off his boots and climbed beside him, curling to his chest. He was cold, but Noctis didn’t flinch. It was okay. He wrapped his small arms around the man’s middle, tucked his head somewhere in a crook of his neck and shoulder and started whispering.

He whispered a lullaby that became theirs by now and with each passing word he felt the man’s trembling slowing down. Still Noctis missed the point when all the shaking subsided – he felt arms closing around him and cold cheek pressed to the top of his head. He smiled, squeezing his own arms in return.

“Noctis…” the man sighed in a soft voice and there wasn’t a trace of desperation in it this time.

“I’m here,” he nodded against his chest, but the man’s arms tightened even more in answer.

“Noctis,” he repeated again and Noctis moved his head back, looking at his face. The man’s eyes were golden again and his breathing was calmer now. Yet something was different anyway. Something else.

“Noctis,” the man called once more and somehow Noctis understood. He smiled, feeling his heart swelling in his chest with something he still didn’t understand but it was big, warm and beautiful.

“You’re welcome,” he returned and nestled closer to the man once again. Closing his eyes, he sighed contentedly, letting a thought cross his mind vaguely.

It would be so good to stay like this forever.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

That night Dad suddenly asked him to sleep in his room. Noctis blinked in surprise – they didn’t share a room ever, as long as he remembered – to which Dad sighed, lowering his eyes and shrugged.

“If you don’t want to…” he drawled sadly and Noctis immediately shook his head.

“No, no, everything’s fine! I’d love to! I’ll just go tell–”

“There’s no need,” his Dad interrupted gently, but firmly, placing a broad palm on his shoulder. “I’ll ask the Glaives to tell him you’ll be sleeping with me. He won’t get scared of them, you told me so yourself, right?”

That was true, but Noctis still felt somehow uneasy. He was used to see the man before sleep, wish him goodnight and they held hands till morning, curling closer to each other. It was really good and Noctis wouldn’t trade it for anything else, but–

This was his Dad and he loved him. And maybe Dad really was feeling lonely now, when Noctis’ whole attention was focused only on the man. So he sighed, gave Dad a smile and flopped on his large ‘royal’ bed, ruffling the covers and giggling.

Dad wished him goodnight, kissed the crown of his head and switched off the light. Noctis tossed and turned for a bit, not feeling like sleeping at all, but he didn’t want to wake Dad – he seemed pretty tired lately. So he made himself still and unmoving, closed his eyes and tried to breathe deeply.

He fell asleep eventually, but there was something heavy in his stomach. Something he felt even through his sleep.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

Two days later Dad asked him again.

Then it was every other day.

Noctis couldn’t actually say ‘no’, it was his Dad after all.

Still the heavy feeling in his stomach remained each and every time.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

One day Dad suggested a trip and Noctis was surprised. He was barely allowed out of the Citadel by now, but a whole trip? Seeing his obvious surprise, Dad explained he had some kind of business trip to Altissia, which won’t take too much of his time and he thought it was great opportunity to take his son with him.

“We can travel a bit from there,” he suggested, showing Noctis pictures of Altissia on his phone. They were rather great – lots of water and such interesting buildings, like seashells Noctis saw in his book once.

Noctis wanted to say ‘yes’ right away, but something stopped him. He looked at the doors of his Dad’s room they were currently in and bit his lip uncertainly.

“But what about–” he started slowly, only for his Dad to gently touch his face with his broad palm.

“He can go with us if you want,” he offered, as if contemplating the idea, but he wasn’t smiling. He seemed thoughtful and a bit distant. Noctis saw that his eyes were darker than usual and snuggled closer to him instinctively.

Maybe Dad wasn’t feeling well.

“Really?” he didn’t let himself hope too much, but Dad just shrugged in response.

“If it won’t scare him too much, of course, then–”

“We’ll be prepared!” Noctis perked up, jumping to his knees right on a bed. He grabbed Dad’s hands and smiled broadly. “Don’t worry, I’ll tell him it’ll be a good trip and that there will be nothing scary!”

“It’s settled then,” Regis smiled at last and patted Noctis’ pillow. “Now, go to sleep, please, you have lessons in the morning.”

Noctis nodded vigorously and burrowed himself under the blankets immediately. He felt excited and impatient all at once, but Dad won’t approve him staying awake all night, so he clenched his eyes tightly. A smile broke free on his face nonetheless.

They were going to travel outside the Insomnia. Like a real journey! He was sure the man would like it – and Noctis would hold his hand the whole time and smile at him and tell him everything about the places they would visit (after asking Dad about them himself, obviously). He’d make sure the man won’t get scared. Maybe he even would like their trip as much as Noctis liked it already.

His Dad had a really wonderful idea and Noctis was giddy with anticipation to start their journey already.

This would be best journey ever, he was sure of it.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, first of all, I wanted to apologize for mistakes I keep making. English is not my native language, more like my third language, but I love it dearly and try to improve myself. I hope it will be more good with some time, so wish me luck)  
> Secondly, yes, the tension is growing and next chapter is gonna be bad, so be aware and ready. *smirks*  
> Anyway, thank you for your kudos and comments, I love each and every one dearly and I'll be happy if you proceed it like that. Well, every author loves feedback, guilty as charged. XD

They took Dad’s car to Galdin Quay, though it wasn’t his Dad behind the wheel – it was Clarus, Dad’s Shield and adviser. He was also Gladio’s dad and he always seemed too serious, but Noctis liked him nonetheless. He protected Dad, after all.

Dad himself was sitting at front seat, reading something on a tablet, while Noctis and the man were on a passenger’s seat together. Dad gave the man some strange look, when they were sitting, but said nothing. He just turned away, pressing his lips in a thin line. Noctis thought maybe he wasn’t feeling too well, but didn’t want to ask him while Clarus was present. Otherwise Dad’s Shield might have insisted on cancelling the whole trip and Dad wouldn’t like it at all. Besides Dad’s face color seemed healthy and he even smiled at Noctis, so everything was probably not bad.

The man, on the other hand, seemed really nervous. He wasn’t afraid, thankfully, but startled when he saw Clarus and startled again, when Noctis tugged him outside. The weather was pretty bad again – dull grey skies, but fortunately with no rain – so Noctis tugged him quickly towards the car, explaining that this ‘stuff’ would take him on their journey.

He kept telling the man about the same journey the whole week, while they were preparing, waiting for the staff to pack their luggage and other things that needed to be done before the journey abroad.

The man, it seemed, barely understood what Noctis was telling him, but when the day came he allowed himself to be led outside. His arm became really stiff when they approached the Citadel’s exit and he startled hard when Noctis ushered him in the open air, but after a few minutes of Noctis giving him brightest smiles he was able to give the man slowly started walking forward again.

When they were seated comfortably in the car, the man gripped Noctis’ fingers tightly. His eyes flashed with bits of fear and he was shaking a bit, but otherwise showed no sighs of panic. Clarus turned on the car’s ignition (Dad told Noctis about it once and Noctis thought he’d like to try it by himself one day, but Dad read his excitement right and told him it’d be possible only when he’d be an adult) and finally their journey began.

The man flinched when the car started moving, head snapping towards the window, but Noctis started stroking his hand right away.

“It’s okay,” he soothed. “Everything’s alright, we’re safe here. Right, Dad?”

Regis made a humming sound, but otherwise didn’t even turn his head in their direction, completely wrapped up with something on his tablet. Well, that couldn’t be helped, his Dad had to prepare for his meeting in Altissia surely. So Noctis moved towards the man, pointed at the window and started commenting on scenery they saw behind it.

The man said nothing, as usual, but sometimes his lips parted as if he was ready to make some noise. When Noctis traced the outlines of something with his finger on a window, the man hesitantly pressed his own finger there too, trying to mimic Noctis’ moves.

Their fingers always touched eventually and Noctis smiled when they did. By this time he climbed on the man’s lap and chatted about things he managed to learn about Altissia. The man looked down on him and held him tightly. He listened intently, cocking his head to the side or blinking, with that adorable confusion still on his face.

Noctis came to think it even suited him, making him seem cute.

Anyways they kept riding even when the night fell. Noctis fought the approaching slumber, but eventually gave up and curled on the man’s lap, pressing his cheek right to his heart and let its rhythmic beat lull him to sleep.

He caught a glimpse of his Dad’s face in a mirror above Clarus’ head (Noctis forgot how it was called, actually). He thought his Dad seemed displeased with something, but then his eyes slipped closed finally and that thought faded away.

When he woke up the next day he learned that they had a short stop at something called a Hammerhead, where Dad’s good friend worked. Clarus managed to take a break from the ride and Dad chatted with his friend, but now they were moving again, much to Noctis’ disappointment – he really wanted to meet Dad’s friend! So he spend the next few hours trying to guess what did that friend look like, making Clarus hum amusedly under his breath and Dad–

Dad seemed distant again, still reading his tablet and his face was so concentrated that Noctis even lowered his voice. Maybe it was something really important.

After a few hours he got bored, though, and looked out of the window again. He hoped they were not far from Galdin already. Dad said there they’d switch car to the real yacht and Noctis was ecstatic to see it. They’d sail across the real sea and maybe he’d see some unique creatures that undoubtedly were living in there.

He looked at the man again, some thought striking him suddenly.

“Maybe you’ll recognize Galdin, how do you think?” he asked out of the blue and the man cocked his head to the side again, as if in question. “I mean, you could have been there before, right? Maybe you’ll see the familiar place and remember?”

He smiled, clutching the man’s arms.

“We even may be able to find where are you from,” he announced happily. “Maybe even meet people who know you and they’ll tell us your name. I want to know it, really.”

He felt someone else’s gaze on him and looked aside – and sure his Dad was staring at him, turning in his seat. Noctis blinked at him in confusion – there was a look he couldn’t understand on his Dad’s face, but then Dad looked at the man and after a second turned away.

He said nothing at all, just turned away, picked his tablet and started reading again.

Noctis wanted to ask, but something told him he didn’t want to really know the answer. Maybe Dad was upset they still didn’t find out where the man was from. Or maybe he just was curious what they were talking about and when he heard he just returned to his previous task.

Maybe everything was fine and this frown Noctis caught on his Dad’s face wasn’t intentional.

Maybe he was just imagining things like every child sometimes did.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

Galdin wasn’t big – just a wooden house on a water, but it seemed really nice. Noctis jumped out of the car, observing the long wooden road right above the water that led to that house. Clarus explained, when they still were riding, that it was called ‘bungalow’ and Noctis thought the name sounded funny. He didn’t giggle, though, throwing a quick glance towards his Dad.

Regis was staring at the window this time and didn’t turn towards him. And he was silent, probably, deep in thought. Noctis didn’t want to interrupt, so he just nodded and sat quietly the rest of the way.

Now, though, he couldn’t wait to run towards this ‘bungalow’ and see the ocean. He gripped the man’s hand tightly, who climbed out of the car after him, and pointed ahead. The man looked towards Galdin and slowly started walking, when Noctis tugged on his hand.

The sun was bright above them, making the water on both sides of the road sparkle. Noctis pointed at it and smiled, but the man seemed kind of sleepy all of sudden. He was squinting and blinking, his grip on Noctis’ hand felt weak and his limp worsened. Noctis looked at the sun, and then back at the man again, alarmed all of sudden. He dragged him quickly towards the safety shadow of the bungalow. The man nearly stumbled there and Noctis quickly spotted chair and tables nearby. He lead the man towards one and tugged him down – the man all but collapsed on a chair, blinking again, but his fingers twitched around Noctis’ hand and his eyes seemed to start focusing on him again.

Before he had time to ask, his Dad and Clarus quickly approached.

“Everything’s fine?” the latter frowned, looking from man to Noctis and back.

“I don’t know,” Noctis shook his head, glancing back at the man and taking his palm in both of his own. “I think the sun was too harsh on him, he seemed sleepy all of sudden.”

“Is that so?” Clarus moved to stand beside him and Noctis saw how he narrowed his eyes at the man. “Well, seems like he’s getting better now.”

Noctis sincerely doubted that – he felt how the man’s hand was shaking, heard the way his breathing hardened. He leaned closer to him and suddenly noticed some red spot on his cheek, slightly obscured by red hair. Without second thought Noctis touched it with his fingers, moving soft red bang aside. The man raised his head and looked at him.

His eyes were sparkling again.

“Noctis,” came his Dad’s voice from behind and there was some steel edge to it, making Noctis jerk back, dropping his hand, head snapping towards his Dad.

Regis looked down on him and his eyes were somehow hard. Then he blinked and they softened again. A slightest bit.

“You shouldn’t do it, son,” he told him in a low, well-mannered voice. “Don’t touch someone’s face without permission, it’s not polite.”

Oh. Noctis felt his ears burn. He tugged on a hem of his shirt, embarrassed to meet the man’s eyes. His Dad was right, actually. He already touched the man’s hands and even hugged him, but it was the face and he probably should’ve asked permission first. Moreover maybe that red spot on the man’s cheek hurt and Noctis even pressed a thumb to it, doubling the pain.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, shifting with unease and risked a glance towards the man. The latter seemed sad again, even more than confused and a red spot on his cheek–

It wasn’t there anymore. Noctis blinked and silently scolded himself. Maybe it was a trick of the light, or a shadow from the man’s hair and nothing more. And he just went and placed his hands of the man’s face disrespectfully. He tucked his chin to his chest and tugged at his shirt harder.

He felt really bad.

Suddenly his Dad sighed and placed hand on his shoulder.

“I think it’s okay now,” he gave Noctis a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes for some reason. Maybe he was tired from the long journey. “Anyway, let’s eat something, we’re probably starving, everyone.”

Noctis nodded at that slowly – yes, food sounded nice. He climbed on a chair beside the man and looked at him sheepishly. He wanted to tell him he was sorry again, but his Dad was already calling for the waiter (was it café in here too?), asking Clarus and Noctis what would they like to order and wondering what kind of fish the place served today (was it different fish on different days?).

He never asked the man, though, but Noctis thought maybe that was because his Dad knew the man won’t answer either way. Probably Dad knew Noctis would just let the man eat the same food as he himself picked and besides the man still was eating really small amounts.

It was okay, anyway. Dad just knew all of that already.

Everything was totally fine.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

The yacht moved with such speed the wind howled in Noctis ears, blowing his hair back and forth and throwing droplets of salt at his face. He laughed, running towards the rails and peeked at the water – it was bright and it sparkled and there were some tiny shadows deep down, but they never surfaced, much to Noctis disappointment.

But, anyway, the ocean was great! The weather was kind of nice too, even though there were no clouds above and that upset Noctis a bit. Because of that the man had to stay in yacht’s inner cabin and this way he won’t be able to see the way ocean sparkled.

Noctis asked his Dad to buy and umbrella or a hat in Galdin for the man, but Regis shook his head, saying there were no such things for sale near the bungalow. He told Noctis the man could sit inside the yacht and it was quite comfortable in there, but still! Noctis bit his lip, looking at the ocean again.

It was really nice, though. Maybe he’d manage to show it to the man after the sunset? Yes, it was wonderful idea – the sun will be down the horizon and it won’t affect the man the same way it did at Galdin. He’d see the ocean then and maybe this would make him smile even for a second.

Noctis wanted to clap his hands excitedly – he couldn’t wait to show the man the sparkling water. Maybe it would still sparkle even after the sunset.

Suddenly yacht slowed down a bit and a shadow fell over Noctis. He glanced back and saw something he couldn’t quite decipher. It was a rock – two rocks, actually, but their shape was kind of strange – flat, with sharp ends and rough edges. It resembled torn paper and it was really big.

There were nothing except rocks as much as Noctis could see and it seemed silent and–

Scary. Those rocks looked scary.

Noctis didn’t like them right away. He didn’t even want looking at them, but the main rock was so huge it loomed over their entire yacht. Noctis cringed and decided to climb inside, to wait until they’d leave this rock aside. Which he did, immediately noticing the man sitting there too. His head jerked up when he heard Noctis’ steps and his eyes were not golden once again. They were dark and Noctis quickly ran to him, alarmed.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, peeking at his face, looking for a sighs of something that caused fear to return. “Are you unwell? What happened?”

The man slowly rose to his feet and this time he wasn’t looking at him. His gaze was locked on the door. He moved towards it and walked out and Noctis jumped, running after him.

“Wait!” he called. “The sun is still–”

The man already stood outside, in a shadow of the rock, looking right at that solitary place. Noctis approached him and took him by the hand.

“Hey,” he squeezed it gently. “What’s wrong?”

The man said nothing – he just looked and his eyes were completely black. Noctis bit his lip and tried to tug on his arm.

“Come on, it will be sunny again here soon,” he reasoned, wanting the man to move back inside. He didn’t want him to look at that rock. Somehow he wanted to cover his eyes with his palms or grab his face and make the man look only at him.

The man didn’t even shift – he was frozen to the spot, eyes and body unmoving. Noctis started tugging harder, using all of his strength this time, but the man didn’t even sway. It was as if Noctis tried to move that same rock they were slowly leaving behind.

“Come on,” Noctis pleaded and tried to shake the man’s arm, to make him look at him – everything to tear his gaze away from that rock Noctis was beginning to hate! “Come with me, please!”

 _Don’t look!_

 _Please, Ar–_

It was as if some invisible wire snapped in the air and suddenly the outside world crashed on them with such force Noctis lost his balance and fell right on his rear with strangled yelp. He tugged on the man’s arm really hard, probably, because he swayed to the side, stumbled and finally turned his head towards Noctis.

The gold was back again. As well as something else.

Something that wasn’t there before.

Like a flicker of consciousness from the depths of emptiness.

Noctis looked, spellbound, and the man looked back and his eyes– His eyes weren’t afraid anymore. No, they saw him and they recognized him and then the man’s lips parted and Noctis stopped breathing, because he knew.

He knew the man would–

“Noctis!” someone called and just like that the world shook again and the man shook with it, jerking back as if stung.

“No,” Noctis babbled, reaching for him frantically. “No, no, please, come back, please, _come back_ –”

The same painful confusion looked back at him and Noctis wanted to cry – to weep, to hug the man with both arms, to reach inside him and tug out something he caught only a glimpse of. Something that would tell Noctis the man’s name, something that would make things right, but the moment was gone and–

His Dad was beside him in a flash, picking Noctis up and pressing him to his chest. His body felt cold and stiff and Noctis let out a huff, being squeezed so tightly.

“What happened?” Regis demanded, but he wasn’t looking at Noctis and that was kind of pointless, because Noctis was the one now who could answer him. He still was the only one. “What did you–”

“I was scared,” he mumbled, pressing on his Dad’s shoulders and moving back a bit. “This rock we were sailing near…” he shuddered at the mention of it and glanced back instinctively. The rock was slowly getting smaller in size, because their yacht was leaving it behind.

Noctis swallowed – he never wanted to see this place again.

“Are you sure?” his Dad asked meanwhile, his eyes searching Noctis’ face for any kinds of injury. There were none, though, so Noctis nodded quickly.

Regis sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. He seemed somehow scared all of sudden, but Noctis couldn’t understand why. He was on Dad’s yacht and the rock was behind them already and the man was here anyway–

He was safe with him.

When he tried to turn back towards the man his Dad’s arms stiffened for a second, as if unwilling to let go. Noctis moved forwards anyway and Dad let him.

Even if it felt reluctant.

The man was staring at Noctis with helplessness and fear on his face. Noctis swallowed hard, reaching for him. Their hands met and Noctis tried to smile – he managed to, but it felt quivering.

“Sorry,” he muttered, moving closer. “Want to come inside?”

The man didn’t answer, but let Noctis to drag him back in yacht’s room. When they passed his Dad Noctis gave a smile to him too, but Dad didn’t smile back. 

He just nodded, mostly to himself, and walked away.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

Noctis forgot about the incident on a yacht when they came to Altissia.

The city was great! Noctis gaped, with his mouth open wide, at the buildings, shining under the sun’s rays, at people in bright clothing’s and there were water everywhere, lots of water. It was like Altissia was a seashell itself, opening on ocean’s surface and blinding everyone with its beauty.

He wanted to jump from the yacht right away, to climb those ladders between buildings, to walk those roads above sparkling water, to dive his hands into those fountains with amazing sculptures on them…

Altissia was bathed in sunrays and Noctis wanted to bathe in them too, feeling their warmth on his skin, reaching his hands towards the sky, willing to touch it.

Dad looked at him with slight smile on his face and when they docked (Dad said it was called like that) he took his hand and led him forward. Noctis jumped with excitement, barely running already, but then his legs stopped on their own accord and he turned back.

The weather was so bright and sunny and it was good for them, but not for the man. Noctis looked at his Dad for help, guessing they’d need to buy an umbrella here or a hat, maybe. Altissia was much larger than Galdin; they’d find those things rather quickly.

“We need to meet the Secretary as soon as possible,” Dad retorted calmly, but surely. “I promised we’d have dinner with her today and it’s almost time already.”

Noctis face fell immediately, he turned towards yacht, feeling like he didn’t want to leave it, but Dad tugged him forward and gave a slight smile.

“Don’t worry, Clarus will stay on a yacht until evening, he’ll take him to our quarters when the sun will set. Now, let us hurry, otherwise we’re going to be late.”

Suddenly he even winked, making Noctis blink at him in surprise.

“We’ll have to take gondola now and I know you’ll like it really much.”

Which Noctis did, actually, making excited noises the whole trip to the Secretary. The latter turned out to be a woman, not much older than his Dad was (if Noctis guessed right) and she smiled at him politely, asking him ‘grown-up’ questions like how was his trip or did he like altissian architecture and Noctis was absolutely fascinated! He chatted with her till evening and when they were served dessert he forgot everything about his worries, because it was sweet and didn’t make his stomach heavy regardless how much of it he ate.

When Dad tucked him in bed at night eventually he wanted to ask him whether the man was near already, because maybe they’d left some sweets for him too, but in a blink of an eye Noctis feel asleep.

He dreamt of the sparkling water and huge rocks above it and creatures in ocean’s depths and gold, black and red, but it merged together in a flash until Noctis couldn’t tell what it was at all.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

It turned out Altissia wasn’t their final destination, because the next day Dad announced they needed to travel by train. It was called _Magna Fortia_ and it would take them even further than Altissia – to the lands Noctis never dreamt of visiting before.

He still didn’t have his walk around Altissia, though, and he wanted to take the man’s hand and drag him there immediately, but Dad said they needed to depart already. When Noctis pouted and whined that he wanted to stay in Altissia a bit longer, Dad assured him they’d return eventually, because they’d leave here their yacht and even Clarus. Seemed like Dad’s Shield was going to stay for some diplomatic reason, which would give Noctis and Regis an opportunity to travel more.

Noctis had no choice than to agree with a sigh, but not before he made Dad promise to give him a whole tour around Altissia on their way back. Regis held his hand seriously and gave a literal vow, closing his eyes, but Noctis saw a ghost of a smile on his lips and giggled, ruining the mood.

He tugged on his closes, jumped out of the bed and ran towards the man’s quarters where he hoped he’d find him. And there he definitely was, sitting on his own large bed, hands in his lap, gaze on them. His head snapped up when he heard Noctis coming and there were dark circles under his eyes prominent on his face, but he stood somewhat shakily, making a step towards Noctis right away.

Noctis ran right into his arms and hugged his waist, smiling up at him. The man was trembling slightly and he seemed worn-out more than before, but his arms were tight and secure around Noctis and it felt right.

Being with him like that felt right.

“We’re gonna take the train now,” Noctis explained after a minute, when the man sat right on a floor, still holding him in his arms. “Don’t know about you, but I’ve never been on one before. Bet it would move pretty fast, Dad told me it’s usually like that.”

The man just looked at him and his helplessness seemed desperate now. Noctis started stroking his shoulder absentmindedly, fingers catching on his soft hair.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be together in there, I promise. I’m sorry we’ve barely met these days, but it won’t be like that from now on. We’ll be together the whole time,” he promised, smiling broadly.

When the man tightened his embrace in answer Noctis added:

“Trust me.”

He sounded like a grown-up now, which was really cool. Besides it was not like he was lying. He fully intended not to leave the man alone from now on. They liked each others presence, but when Noctis simply felt good around the man the latter seemed getting calmer around him. It was twice as good.

Maybe the day when the man would smile at him finally was not too far ahead.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so... HERE WE ARE.  
> You can come scream at me, I won't mind.

Regis woke up from a light shove – it seemed the train made another turn. He sighed, closing his eyes for a long moment, then quickly started blinking – to adjust his sight to the day’s light. His soft seat felt appealing enough to relax a bit more, but Regis pushed this urge away.

He quickly spotted his son, sound asleep, curled on an opposite seat, with his head–

Yes, Noctis’ head was on a creature’s lap. This made Regis insides boil with rage, but he suppressed it as best as he could. He won’t be able to act openly – not now, anyway. But seeing his son trusting this… _thing_ was unbearable.

The creature – _Adagium_ – was awake. Of course, it was. Regis knew by now that it actually didn’t need sleep or food. What he didn’t know was how blind he was not to notice those sighs from the very beginning. He would have prevented it from snaking its way towards his son. From reaching for his pure innocent boy with its claws and gripping him tightly. And now Noctis couldn’t even think of them separating.

Regis wanted to summon one of his Royal Arms and pierce himself on it. What a fool he was! He let ‘the man’ they knew _absolutely nothing_ about stay not only in the Citadel, but in the room next to Noctis! He let them meet, let Noctis sleep beside this thing, let him touch its hands, show it how to wash itself and every other things Regis should have prevented from happening right away!

He broke in cold sweat every time he saw his son near that thing, not to mention when they touched or when it even dared to hug Noctis as if he was something precious. Regis wanted to rip its arms off with bare hands after that.

He narrowed his eyes, looking closely at the monster, sitting across from him. Red hair and golden eyes. Where on Eos would one find a person with such appearance? Regis wanted to rip his own hair out bit by bit for being dumb _that much_.

Every sign was right in front of his eyes, screaming at him to notice, but he was either too blind to do it or it was the Adagium that somehow managed to deceive him. As much as it deceived all of them even now with these frightened helpless eyes. And to think Regis actually believed it at the beginning, pitying it even!

Oh, how excited this monster must have been inside, playing a role of a poor helpless man, making everyone fuss around it, feed it, present it with clean clothes and nice words. Most of all Noctis. Regis’ son was completely spell-bound by this monster, which, in this case, maybe wasn’t an allegory at all.

Noctis might have been bewitched, quite literally speaking. As far as Regis knew the Adagium possessed some dark magic – ugly and twisted version of Regis own powers – and it was free to use it on Noctis as much as it’d like.

His son, his beautiful boy – poisoned with the monster’s miasma, making him think it was his ‘friend’. Making him trust it with wide and innocent eyes – to the extent where he let it hug him to its chest, hold his head in its lap and–

Regis was feeling sick even thinking what the monster planned to do to his boy in near future. Everything to make Noctis its pliant toy, before the time comes when it would order him to kneel and bare his throat. Then the monster would sink its fangs in his flesh and tear it to shreds, taking his son’s life away forever, drinking his blood–

He had to shake his head, throwing those thoughts aside, otherwise he’d jump to his feet at this very moment, summon all his swords and then just!..

Noctis mumbled something incoherent in his sleep, pressing his cheek against creature’s thigh, snuggling closer to it and it lifted its hand in an attempt to start stroking Noctis’ hair.

“Don’t,” Regis hissed quickly and its hand froze mid-air, golden eyes looking at him with that same frightened expression.

Honestly, he was sick and tired of its act already. Regis rolled his eyes, but said nothing, just crossed arms on his chest and fixed the monster with harsh stare. It dropped its hand on a seat and started looking at Noctis again. Regis observed it silently, mildly impressed it managed to keep that façade so long without showing even a hint of its real face.

He couldn’t help wondering how it managed to escape from its prison. From what Regis knew and saw by his own eyes, that whole island was engulfed in powerful magic. Not to mention the chains were undoubtedly created by the Astrals themselves! Still the monster found a crack in that barrier and used it for its advantage.

Regis barely believed it was possible, but here the monster was now – right in front of his eyes, living, breathing thing, tainting the world and everyone around with its mere presence. He should’ve killed it at first sight. If only he knew it then.

Yet here he was now – on his way to make things right again. He’d land his final blow as far from Insomnia as possible and he’d have it his own way. He thought about it for a long time now and decided upon only one solution.

If Angelgard’s walls were too weak to hold the monster back, then there was another option left, which could’ve helped.

Ghorovas Rift where Shiva herself lay sleeping.

He’d strike the monster right there with all power he’d be able to muster. Being this close to a place where one of the Astrals resided would help the matter, he was sure of it. Shiva’s presence won’t let the injured monster to heal fast enough and it would give Regis a perfect opportunity to end its miserable existence for good.

As for the way back – Regis thought about it beforehand too. First of all, they traveled in what could’ve been called ‘disguise’ – no royal clothes or items showing they were King and Prince of Lucis. Just father and son travelling with rather average suitcase (they left all their other possessions on yacht). Train wasn’t full of people, but there were enough of them for Regis, Noctis and their third ‘companion’ not to attract unwanted attention and even if they did no one would have thought that it was actual royalty here, on a simple train journey.

They’d reach Ghorovas Rift, where Regis would do what needed to be done and on their way back they’d get off the train in Piztala, Tenebraen territory, washed by the ocean, where Clarus would pick them up immediately (Regis told him approximate time when to wait for them there) and return safely to Galdin.

Then they would depart for Insomnia again, leaving all horrors Regis would prevent from happening, behind.

He sighed, closing his eyes, and opened them only when the train made a next stop. Glancing out of the window, Regis saw Cartanica – a train station, but more like abandoned industrial sites. Niflheim sapped its natural resources not too long ago, turning this place in some kind of ghost town.

Noctis mumbled something again, curling in a tight ball, slightly aside from the man. Regis noticed in mild satisfaction how his son completely nestled on a seat, sleeping peacefully. Thanks the Astrals he wasn’t touching the creature anymore.

Regis felt sudden urge to stretch his legs but the more they neared their final destination the less he wanted to leave Noctis alone with Adagium. The monster could’ve sensed his intentions for what was worth and lash out all of sudden, injuring Noctis deliberately. Regis broke in cold sweat even thinking about it.

“Come with me,” he more or less ordered, snapping the monster out of its trance. It blinked at him in mock confusion and Regis jerked his chin towards door impatiently.

Its gaze slowly landed on Noctis, then turned to Regis again. It seemed sincerely hesitant to leave the boy’s side, which made Regis want to sneer at him. He waited, looming above it, his boot softly tapping against the floor. Then, after what felt like literal eternity, the creature slowly raised to its feet. Regis motioned to follow him, walking out of the door but Adagium froze on a doorstep, eyes darting back to Noctis again.

For one second Regis thought it would refuse to leave Noctis’ side with how desperate its gaze was. As if it was feeling physical pain, being separated from his son.

Which was utterly ridiculous.

Regis cleared his throat pointedly and it flinched, gazing back at him. He motioned with his hand again and it slowly started following, throwing quick glances towards their compartment from time to time.

They stepped outside finally and Regis cringed again from how stale and dry the air was. It scratched his throat, making him want to cough. He glanced from side to side, looking where to buy a bottle of water, if such place even existed here. Fortunately, as a sigh not far away showed, the station had a restaurant made out of old railway carriage. Regis bought a bottle of surprisingly clean water there, drinking half of it in one go.

The creature hovered near him awkwardly the whole time. Regis noticed how its eyes kept glancing back at the exact window behind which Noctis lay. 

Another proof that the monster was definitely preying on his son.

Regis clutched the bottle so hard the water splashed out of it and he gasped in surprise, loosing his hold. The bottle fell out of his arm, landing on a ground and rolling right into the creature’s boot. It bumped against it and stopped, splashing water on its feet, but it just blinked dumbly and looked down. 

Regis looked down too, suddenly feeling worn-out himself as if his strength was leaking out of that bottle like water did. So they stood – the King who wanted to protect his child no matter the cost and monster of the past, the Adagium, who should’ve been making attempt after attempt of exterminating their family over and over again.

Yet it didn’t.

It broke its chains, escaped its prison, then came to the front gates of Citadel and met his first prey there. Only to regard that prey with terror so raw it barely moved, overcome with it beyond reason. To flinch away, shaking to the core, without making any move to harm that prey even once.

Regis knew the Agagium was a monster and now he stood beside that monster, who didn’t even know what it was (it was faking it, Regis kept telling himself, definitely faking it!) and whose first glimpse of consciousness started with–

‘Noctis’.

Its first word.

There was no one around them now, except the train about to depart further with a child sleeping in one of its compartments. The child important to Regis more than his own life ever was.

He didn’t want to think it may have been like that for the monster too.

He wanted to summon Royal Arms right at that moment and end it all. To grab Noctis with both hands, shielding him away from the world around. To tell the Astrals and Kings he did everything to stop the Prophecy. For that he needed to lift his arms and strike.

He lifted his arm indeed – the left one – and pointed towards the restaurant they left behind.

“Sweets,” he said, barely recognizing his own voice with how coarse and strangled it was. Tiny rocks fell down his throat, tearing it to shreds. “There are sweets Noctis likes to taste.”

The man perked up, hearing ‘Noctis’ and looked at Regis straight away. The latter motioned with his hand again. He tried not to think; otherwise it would do him no good at all.

“Go there and buy him those sweets,” he managed to grind out through the rocks in his throat. “Noctis will be happy.”

The man blinked, slowly turning towards the restaurant. He hesitated, swaying slightly and looked back at Regis, as if uncertain what to do.

“Go,” he pressed harder, hand pointing again and the man flinched from him suddenly, taking a step back. There might have been something unpleasant on Regis’ face, because fear flashed in golden eyes again.

Then the man slowly made another step and fully turned to the restaurant. Regis watched him limping slightly towards it and rocks blocked his whole throat now, making it nearly impossible to breathe. He whirled on his heels, jumping back on a train and running towards their compartment, where his son was asleep.

Noctis was still there and Regis let out a sigh he didn’t realize he was holding. Looking out of the window, he saw the man slowly walking in the restaurant, disappearing inside it finally.

That was the exact moment the train jerked and started moving again. The restaurant slowly started slipping out of sight and after few seconds it stayed completely back. No one walked out of it still.

The train gained its previous speed and suddenly Regis collapsed on a seat next to Noctis. He was shaking all over and couldn’t stop. Glancing at his son was a relief though and he bended over him, kissing his hair lightly. Noctis smiled in his sleep, sighed and curling tighter around himself.

By the time Regis looked out of the window again Cartanica was nowhere in sight anymore.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

Noctis slept for the whole day, undoubtedly tired from the journey already. He started showing signs of being awake only when they finally reached Piztala. Regis picked him up and got off the train. He didn’t look back even once.

Clarus was already waiting for them on a station and let them to the yacht docked not too far away. Regis placed his son on a bed inside just in time – Noctis cracked his eyes open. He yawned, stretching his arms wide, blinking a few times.

The yacht started moving.

Noctis’ eyes landed on Regis and he smiled. Regis couldn’t force himself to smile back – he didn’t know why, but he just couldn’t. He sat there and watched his son – watched how he yawned again, slowly coming around to his surroundings.

He saw the exact moment Noctis frowned and looked around again. Then he glanced at Regis in confusion his father was expecting already.

“Dad?” he bit his lip, eyes searching for something that wasn’t there anymore. “Where is he?”

 _What have you done?_ the Kings asked in tune with his son’s voice.

He had the same answer for both questions, so he gave it.

“I don’t know.”

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

Noctis turned the whole yacht upside down in a span of a few minutes. At first he simply bombarded Regis with questions – swallowing the words, merging them together – but the meaning was the same.

He wanted to know what happened.

He wanted them to go back.

Regis told him he had no idea where exactly that ‘back’ was. He told him he fell asleep just like Noctis did and slept the whole day. He told him the train made a whole bunch of stops at different stations and there was a chance ‘the man’ would’ve got off the train during one of it.

Noctis didn’t want to listen. So he started telling him they _needed_ to go back.

The yacht kept moving nonetheless, but Noctis was smart enough to guess he should try and persuade both Regis and Clarus to stop it. So he demanded, stomped his feet, in a voice loud and ringing that they needed to go back, they needed to search all the places, because Noctis would stay right on that place until they found the man again.

Clarus didn’t even spare him a second glance, nor did he look at Regis. His King gave him orders already and he was following them.

It was nearly an hour after when Noctis started pleading. He clung to Regis arms, eyes wide and lips trembling and _pleaded_.

He pleaded him to go back, to help Noctis search for the man, to find him, to do something–

Regis thought his heart stopped at the very beginning of those pleas, but he was still alive – still breathing – so maybe it kept beating as always. 

He felt like it stopped, though.

He took his son’s arms and looked at him, unable to tear his eyes away. And Noctis looked back, searching frantically for something on his Dad’s face. Something that would give him a slightest chance to hope.

Regis knew there was none.

That’s why Noctis’ hands dropped and he began to cry.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

Noctis cried himself into panic attack that first day. Regis fetched first aid kit that was stored on his yacht just in case. The case was severely important now. He managed to give Noctis some mild tranquilizer and his son fell asleep. His face was red already by that time, eyes puffy, and lips swollen.

When they reached Galdin he came to again. Regis smiled at him, stroking his hair and talking to him in a soothing tone, but Noctis just glanced around the room.

He cried again that day, twice as harder. Regis gave him another pill with heavy heart – it was damage enough for a developing system to take those pills, but that couldn’t be helped.

They switched to the car and Regis told Clarus to speed as faster as possible. He knew they needed a few days to reach Insomnia nonetheless. Noctis woke up at night screaming and trashing in his father’s hands. Regis tried to keep him still, soothed him, hugged him, but Noctis screamed at the top of his lungs until his voice broke eventually, transforming into a pitiful whine.

This time his cries were filled with such anguish Regis barely could tolerate them. He gripped his son as tightly as possible, told Clarus he’d have it his own way and warped. He warped a lot of times after that, draining his own strength, but heading towards Insomnia faster than by any car.

He nearly collapsed in the hall of a Citadel, almost dropping Noctis to the ground. His son started squirming away from him, his voice rising again. Regis barked at the staff to fetch doctors immediately while Noctis screamed his throat raw.

His screams turned into sobs when they moved him to his room. Those sobs made his small chest heave with their force, each and every one tearing something inside his son, making Regis wince. Noctis trashed and turned, shoving the people around him away, screaming and sobbing endlessly, until they had to sedate him and he fell into catatonic kind of sleep.

When the medication’s effect died the other day everything repeated again.

And again after that.

The Prince cried himself sick, doctors summarized. A severe trauma, they said, giving his son another portion of pills that damaged him as much as those panic attacks did.

Noctis was barely lucid by the end of a week and Regis demanded to cease the medication altogether. Doctors shook their heads and said it was possible the Prince would start having seizures again. Regis refused the medication nonetheless.

He managed to coax Noctis to eat something that day. Some light squash and a cup of water. Noctis puked it after an hour in any case. When the doctors came again hastily, Regis just looked at them and said nothing.

Since that day they prescribed his son calming pills: to take thrice a day. At first Noctis puked even those pills too, his stomach unable to process something, even water.

He barely talked at all, just made strangled noises or cried all the time. He stopped having severe panic attacks, but couldn’t calm down completely either. He was lying in his bed, in a nest of pillows, soaked with his tears and snot. When someone tried to touch him, he started trashing and screaming. Then they gave him pills and he calmed down enough to let himself be washed and changed into clean clothes.

Regis was near him almost every hour, but couldn’t help either. His son refused his hands too. He cried, and screamed, and pleaded and asked only for one man, whose name he didn’t even know.

Every time Regis wanted to rip his own ears out, but not to hear his son’s pleas.

Every time he saw his son writhing in agony on a bed, crying for someone who would never return. Because Regis would made sure it won’t happen. Even if for that he had to break his son’s heart.

Even if he already did.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a short one, because I didn't want to mix it with next part that will come. So I decided to split. Next chapter will be long - like really long, so don't worry. Anyway, like my friend already guessed, it's Ardyn's POV in here. As much as Ardyn is capable of having one, of course. You thought the previous chapter was bad? Wait till you read this one. Mind the tags and prepare for PAIN.

A person said ‘Noctis’ and the Nothing knew it was important. He also said other things the Nothing barely understood, but there was ‘Noctis’ again and that – that it knew.

Noctis was important.

 _The Special_.

A person told it Noctis wanted something. He ‘liked’ something and the Nothing needed to fetch it. It needed to make Noctis happy.

It was everything when Noctis was happy.

Noctis chased the black holes away, turning them into ‘persons’. When Noctis touched it didn’t hurt. When he smiled – it was as if the Nothing wasn’t nothing at all.

Noctis smiled at it like it was _something_.

He was bright, but that ‘bright’ didn’t hurt like ‘bright’ above did. He took the Nothing by its part, let the Nothing touch him in return and smiled.

He always smiled at the Nothing. He let the Nothing stay closer to him, told it words the Nothing never heard before and barely understood, but they were coming out of the Special’s mouth and that – that was important.

He repeated some of those words over and over again, when ‘bright’ faded and Noctis told they needed to sleep. The Nothing didn’t know what ‘sleep’ was, but Noctis said it was an important thing to do. The Nothing tried to do it every time.

It failed.

Maybe it needed to tell Noctis it couldn’t, but it was afraid Noctis would get sad. The Nothing knew by now the meaning of ‘sad’. Noctis explained it to it. He also told it this ‘sad’ was on its own face, but the Nothing didn’t understand.

It wasn’t sad when Noctis was near.

Noctis told it those words would chase the ‘sad’ away and repeated them. He asked the Nothing whether it liked them, but the Nothing didn’t understand at first either. Then Noctis explained what ‘like’ and ‘happy’ meant.

The Nothing understood it _liked_ the repeated words. Because they came from Noctis’ mouth.

It didn’t understand what ‘happiness’ meant, but it thought it was Noctis.

That was why it needed to take something Noctis liked. Maybe then Noctis would like the Nothing too. So it needed to find ‘sweets’ as a person said. ‘Sweets’ was ‘like’ for Noctis. It was important.

Everything Noctis was – was important.

…Another person looked at the Nothing, asking him something, but it didn’t understand. It just needed ‘sweets’.

Noctis was waiting.

A person stopped talking to it, turning away. He talked to other person’s around – not much of them. The Nothing looked down – at a surface, which reflected its face a bit. There was something with words ‘broth’, ‘meat’ and others inside.

Then the Nothing saw ‘sweets’ and lifted its part to touch. The surface stopped its part and the Nothing froze. It needed to take the ‘sweets’, because Noctis wanted them. Noctis was waiting; it needed to take them to him.

A person was there again. He was talking and words sounded loud. The Nothing recoiled from them, moving itself back. A person made a harsh sound, then motioned with his limbs. The Nothing didn’t understand, but it seemed like he was shoving. A person started motioning faster when the Nothing just stared, but it didn’t understand. It shuffled closer again, pointing its part at the ‘sweets’.

A person made a harsh sound and suddenly took one the ‘sweets’, pushing it into the Nothing’s outstretched part. The Nothing clutched it tightly and shuffled away. It was swaying on its side a bit, but it was nothing.

It was taking the ‘sweets’ to Noctis. Then Noctis would be happy. He would smile at the Nothing like it was something again. He would say those words too, when the ‘bright’ would fade to ‘black’.

The Nothing didn’t know what it was – to ‘want’ something, but maybe it was to make Noctis happy.

It came back, but Noctis wasn’t there. It stood, looking from side to side, but there wasn’t a place with Noctis in it. There was and now it was gone.

Maybe Noctis was tired of waiting and went to find ‘sweets’ himself. The Nothing felt a void in its part swirl and lurch. It didn’t know, but it felt like dying.

Noctis wasn’t happy. He had to go for the ‘sweets’ himself. The Nothing needed to tell him words too then. They needed to sound like ‘sorry’, but it couldn’t. The Nothing didn’t have something Noctis was talking with.

It didn’t have a voice.

Noctis was away, but he was away sometimes. He always came back after that. The Nothing just would have to wait for him. It sat on something and waited, ‘sweets’ clutched tightly in its part. It needed to hold them, until Noctis would return.

Maybe he would be happy then. Maybe he would be happy enough to give the Nothing something in return.

Something that was called ‘a Name’.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

The Nothing waited. The ‘bright’ faded to ‘black’ and then to the ‘bright’ again. It started repeating more and more. Persons were moving past the Nothing, but it didn’t notice them. It waited for Noctis.

Then ‘black’ faded to ‘barely bright’ and the Nothing was wet. It stayed wet for a long time, but it was nothing. It didn’t matter, because nothing mattered except Noctis.

Noctis would return and smile at it. He would take the ‘sweets’ the Nothing held for him and become happy. He would like them.

Maybe he would like the Nothing too.

When ‘wet’ stopped and slowly became ‘bright’ again the Nothing stopped being ‘wet’ too. Even if ‘wet’ returned again after ‘black’ and ‘bright’ repeated more, the Nothing stayed where it was.

It needed to stay in a place. Then Noctis would find it.

He still didn’t, but the Nothing waited. It knew Noctis would come, because Noctis liked ‘sweets’. He would want to eat them. The Nothing held them tightly, covering with its parts, when ‘wet’ became harder than before. It needed to protect ‘sweets’ for Noctis.

He’d be happy to see them whole.

So it protected them and waited for Noctis to come.

He didn’t.

When ‘wet’ came again it was accompanied with ‘cold’. The Nothing was shaking, but it didn’t matter. It waited for Noctis–

–who didn’t come.

It was after the ‘wet’ and ‘cold’ faded and returned again the Nothing thought maybe Noctis didn’t want it anymore. Maybe Noctis wasn’t coming back, because he found something for himself.

He didn’t want the _Nothing_.

But maybe he’d still want the ‘sweets’. Maybe he’d return for them. Maybe when the Nothing would hold them to him he’d consider wanting it back.

Then Noctis didn’t come for the ‘sweets’ either. Maybe he didn’t want them anymore, because the Nothing held them and now they were nothing too.

Then it would lead him to a place with those ‘sweets’, where Noctis would get them by himself. The Nothing wouldn’t even touch them, it wouldn’t even look.

If only Noctis would return, then it would do everything he wanted.

Everything was pointless when Noctis wasn’t there. The Nothing was not even nothing without him.

It didn’t know what it was.

Maybe it wasn’t even ‘it’.

Maybe it wasn’t at all.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

It waited Noctis to return.

Without Noctis there wasn’t ‘it’ at all.

It needed Noctis, because with him it was.

It waited Noctis to return.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

He didn’t.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For this chapter I strongly advise you: Please. Mind. The. Tags.  
> Trigger warnings: rape/non-con.  
> I'll be absent from here for two weeks from now, so, please, don't be angry if I won't answer your comments. I'll cherish each one when I return.  
> Thank you!

The train lurched a bit, slowing down with a screech and Besithia cringed. He started rubbing his aching temple in a poor attempt to soothe away a headache that plagued him for three days prior.

Damn this ‘principal staff’ as they liked to call themselves in his facility. Useless enough to fetch left-out data researches from one of the abandoned bases and now it was Besithia’s task to do it for them. As he was a mere worker, who could have been ordered what to do!

Except when the order came from actual royalty, one would have to clench his teeth, bow his head and carry it out hastily.

Damn Aldercapt too then.

Now he had to sit on this train, because of course there was no chance to reach that facility by air, and suffer all those stops, with no chance to reach his lab anytime soon. Not to mention he was restless and bored without something to work on.

 _Not to mention_ he’d have to go all this way again, because _of course_ he couldn’t extract all data from that facility at once.

Right, he was _totally_ pissed over.

He threw quick glance out of the window and, of course, there was rain, falling like crazy from sickeningly grey skies. Besithia hated the world at large at moments like these, wondering why he even bothered living in it. But then all his researching plans and goals reminded about themselves in his brain, giving him the exact answer.

He sighed, trying to calm down, and squinted, looking outside. Barren land, slowly dying city with faceless people, who were foolish enough to cling at shreds of hope that someday it would get better.

Cartanica was useful once – it wasn’t anymore. 

Besithia let his eyes drag slowly across the station, noticing wet concrete, empty benches– Except one. There was one bench occupied and he let out a snort at that. Someone was crazy enough to sit under that damned rain, waiting for his train to arrive? Foolish.

Well, it was their own business, after all.

He eyed a lone mop of something obscure, but undoubtedly wet for a few seconds, before turning away. Trying to relax in his seat, he reminded himself that soon he’d step in his own facility again, where important matters waited for him.

The train started moving again and Besithia closed his eyes in satisfaction, Cartanica lost to merciless rain somewhere behind.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

He passed it again only two months later and it was raining again. He even wondered whether the sky cleared in there. He stayed in his compartment the whole stop, silently glancing out of the window. The benches were empty, no people around–

Except one. There was someone sitting on a far away bench and it took Besithia a few moments to remember it was like that previous time too. He lifted his brow at that, wondering how sane was this new person, soaking in the rain, when they would have at least hide in one of those empty carriages, stocked around the station now.

He threw aside a thought that it might have been the same person as before. It was ridiculous.

When the train started moving, he didn’t even spare a lone figure a second glance. It wasn’t his problem and he had more important tasks to occupy his mind with.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

Except when, another three months later, he had the last stop at that barren place, the bench was still occupied. That figure was sitting on its left part, same as two previous times, soaking in the rain again.

Besithia looked at them longer this time.

When that person didn’t move an inch during twenty minutes, he told his assistants he was travelling with to fetch an umbrella for him. He got off the train, dirtying his fine boots by stepping in huge puddles, but walked straight ahead nonetheless.

The figure didn’t even acknowledge that someone was coming towards it.

Besithia came closer and stopped, observing silently.

It was a man, with hair plastered to his face and spine, in completely drenched clothes. The latter’s seemed dirty and ruffled. The man was hunched over a bit, with hands pressed tightly to his lap, as if he was shielding something he was holding from rain. Judging by the way his fingers were smeared with something dark and sticky-looking he made a poor job.

Besithia hovered over him with eyes narrowed. The man didn’t even flinch when he came closer, didn’t as much as lift his head. Nothing. He seemed dead to the world, but Besithia noticed his chest rising and falling with uneven breaths.

He wondered suddenly how the man’s face looked like – he couldn’t see properly with all that hair and the fact that his head was bowed.

“Hey,” Besithia called, cocking his head, but gained no reaction in return. He contemplated to shake the man with his hand, but decided against it. He didn’t want to catch some infection from touching someone this dirty.

Instead he looked around, searching for the stations’ post. He noticed it not far away and, walking inside, gave the staff working there his name and rank. They started fussing around him right away, but he waved them aside. He knew there were cameras on this station everywhere – half of them broken and dead, but some of them were probably still working.

He was proved right soon and started watching camera’s record. It showed him exactly what he anticipated – that man sat there for the whole week, in the same pose, without moving even an inch. Besithia dug deeper and took earlier records, which showed the same.

He tapped the tablet, deep in thought, wondering whether his sudden idea could be reasonable or ridiculous. His fingers pressed on a tablet anyway and he watched the oldest camera’s records that were available.

After that he nodded to himself, threw the tablet towards the staff without sparing them another glance and walked out. He neared the man, running eyes over him, and tried to guess how exactly it was possible for someone to stay in the same place, on a same spot, in a same pose for six whole months.

 _Without_ moving a limb. Without eating, drinking, sleeping or relieving himself of natural needs.

Slowly he crouched beside the man, dirtying his own garments in a puddle beneath, but it was the last thing that bothered him at a moment. He noticed the man’s face was pale and hollow. Noticed how his hair stuck to his lips and how the man made no attempt at moving it away.

His eyes were downcast, but Besithia wanted to see them. He wanted to know who that man was. So he reached forwards and touched one wet strand of man’s hair, tugging it out of the corner of his mouth.

Its very tip was red.

The man suddenly shifted, a tremor coursing through his body and slowly – as if learning how his body worked for the first time – inched his head a bit higher, giving Besithia a perfect view of his eyes.

They were gold.

“Noc…tis…” the man mumbled in a voce so soft it barely resembled an actual sound at all.

Besithia just stared back, as if struck by lightning. His wide eyes roamed the man’s face while lips tried to form some coherent answer.

 _‘…with its head, painted with blood…’_

Simple words with no meaning behind them, scribbled on a parchment of paper that turned to dust seconds after Besithia touched it, barely able to catch the text from it. It seemed he caught enough.

He didn’t know who that ‘Noctis’ was and he honestly didn’t care. All he knew was a miracle, looking back at him with eyes as golden as the sun and–

–head, painted with blood.

Here, in that barren, slowly dying land, Verstael Besithia found Adagium.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

It took three assistants’ help to drag Adagium from that bench. Maybe, his limbs were stiff and sore from sitting in one pose for so long, but Besithia doubted that. It was something else, he thought. Something that lay deeper than surface showed.

When they took him, Adagium flinched. He started shaking, recoiling from them violently. His pupils widened so hard they even swallowed the gold and Besithia cringed. When his assistants tried to touch the man again, he jerked back so hard his side bumped against the bench.

The metal creaked, groaning from the impact.

“Noctis…” the man mumbled helplessly, frightened eyes darting from Besithia to assistants and back. His hands were clutched tightly to his chest, still trying to shield something away.

Besithia took a step forward and raised his hand. Adagium’s eyes immediately bored holes in him, black with terror.

“Noctis,” Verstael repeated and the man froze, barely even breathing. “You’re searching for this Noctis fellow?”

Adagium swayed forward, as if his body was straining to stay upright. His wide, terrified eyes never left Verstael’s face. 

Besithia felt a thrill of something _wonderful_ , coursing through him.

“I happen to know exactly where he is,” he opened his palm, pointing it in invitation towards the train, which still waited for them. It would have done the mechanic little good to depart without them, after all.

“Come with us,” Besithia cooed, offering his hand forward. “And we’ll take you to Noctis.”

Adagium swayed again, but took one shaky step forward. Then another one. And another more. Besithia raised his umbrella, trying to cover even part of his body, but with how tall Adagium was it seemed nearly impossible. Besides, he was already soaked to the bones.

When Adagium was seated at last in Besithia’s compartment the train started moving. Verstael sat across from the man, fixing his stare on him, but Adagium never looked back. He was staring at his hands he still clutched to his chest even now and water was dripping from him on a seat and to the floor.

Wet and miserable – he was shaking non-stop now. Some might call him pitiful, but Besithia would have none of that. For him it was quite the opposite, when he looked at a marvel himself.

He realized he was smiling only when they reached their final destination, but this knowledge only made that smile grow wider.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

Adagium was barely lucid when Besithia ordered to clean him up. They half-took half-dragged him towards the bathroom, where two assistants started stripping him from his soaked clothes. Adagium flinched away from every pair of hands only to bump into another. His fear, even a hard one, slowly morphed into devastating terror, but Besithia ordered to pay that no mind.

It wasn’t like the man would die from simply being afraid.

And oh – he was _gorgeous_ , stripped from his ruined clothes and completely naked in bright bathroom light. Not too lean and not too muscular either, but obviously strong body. Smooth, slightly pale skin, long hair, golden eyes…

He was a _marvel_ himself. An awesome sight.

Then they started cleaning the mess he was, which worsened his condition even more. He tried to squirm away from washcloths, but only managed to fall on his knees, not slowing down assistants even slightest bit. Eventually his terror became so over-consuming he ceased all his feeble struggles, curling into a ball with violent tremors wracking his body.

When they tried to pry his hands open to clean them too, he started recoiling again, trying to shield his clenched fists. Besithia watched, amazed, how they had to catch his wrists at last, forcefully tugging on his fingers.

Adagium seemed too weak to struggle for real, because otherwise there won’t be a whole surface left in that bathroom at all. Besithia was definitely sure of that.

A strangled, pained whine echoed through the walls when they managed to open Adagium’s left palm and some lump of dirt fell on a floor with wet plop. The man lunged after it suddenly, only for hands to tug him back. He shook them off, reaching for that nasty mess he held onto for so long, but his body slipped on a wet floor and he crashed onto his side again. The bathroom tiles cracked and Besithia opened his eyes wide, observing every moment.

He didn’t want to loose _any_ detail.

The man propped himself on his forearms and tried to scrape the dirt from the floor back into his palm, but the assistants turned the shower spray already and it started washing every trace of it off the tiles.

“No…ctis…” Adagium whined in a strangled, pitiful voice, not ceasing his efforts, even though there was little left of the dirt on a floor by that time. “No… Noc…tis…”

He curled around the now clean spot, where the ugly blob of something unknown was only mere seconds ago. His hair fell around him like a curtain, spilling over the floor beside his shoulders and head. The water, cascading from it, was brown with dirt.

The man was shaking, knees under himself, curled around something worthless that wasn’t even there anymore, whimpers and gasps tearing from him in a simple call for ‘Noctis’.

When the water finally started running clean, they turned it off and started rubbing his body with cloths. He didn’t try to struggle this time, violent tremors tearing at him every few seconds, but otherwise he stayed where he was.

They dragged him up by the hands and he swayed, crashing on his knees again, head lowered. Besithia motioned them to stop and they froze, holding Adagium’s forearms tightly so his hands where slightly above his head now. Verstael approached him and touched his chin, lifting his head a bit.

The eyes that looked back at him were black with terror. And pain. There was horrendous amount of pain no man would be strong enough to bear. But that was no man before him now.

Verstael smiled, gently stoking his skin. Lower part of his face had slight stubble, but Besithia told his assistants not to remove it. He didn’t want them to change something in Adagium at all. Not until his direct command, of course.

So he told them to finish drying him up and dress him in lab’s clothes. When it was done, they moved Adagium to a room Besithia ordered to prepare for him beforehand. They didn’t give him any boots, though, but Verstael doubted he’d actually feel how cold the floor was.

Those feelings were for _people_ to have, after all.

Besithia looked at now seated man’s face, but it was obscured again by hair. He threw an order towards his assistants to tie it back and they complied, making a loose ponytail. It left two long bangs, covering Adagium’s face still, but that was fine.

The man still shook so hard the whole bed he seated on was creaking, but Besithia just watched in satisfaction. Every tiny movement proved how extremely _unique_ this person before him was. Someone, who should have been dead _centuries_ ago, but lived through them, changeless. Who should have been locked still in deepest cave of Angelgard, away from the world, which might fear him for who he was, but didn’t even know he existed at all.

He was a mystery in Besithia’s hands, to unravel it layer by layer, showing him what was inside. His fingers twitched, itching to start right now, to touch, to pry open, to know everything that man kept hidden inside himself.

No food, no drink, no sleep for him too. It was time to start straight way, everything else be damned.

So he did.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

They took him to lab facility later that day.

Adagium barely walked at all, freezing after each few steps, his eyes, still back with terror, darting around him helplessly, as if he didn’t understand where he was or who was near him.

Besithia guessed he didn’t.

There was an obvious limp in his step and Besithia took a mental note to check on that later. Meanwhile they needed to check on his general vital first and then move from there. That quickly became not an easy task, because Adagium kept recoiling from any touch. They managed to seat him at last and started placing electrodes on his neck and uncovered part of his chest, but that seemed to alarm him even more, if that was actually possible.

He jerked back, making half of the electrodes slip off him and it took three assistants to press on his shoulders to make him barely still again. Besithia looked at monitors, transmitting chaotic indicators, but even those were enough to make him suck in a breath. Everything was completely off scale, infinitely higher than even highest of rates humans could have had.

Those rates where unbelievable! He never saw ones like these, even on his previous test subjects.

Besithia barely suppressed a shiver of excitement. It was everything he anticipated and much – _much_ more! Here was a man in his arms – a living proof that there were borders even humans could cross, move beyond possible and further. A casket full of treasured secrets Besithia could open with nothing more than bare hands. He would reveal mysteries no other living person would be able to witness or understand.

And they would be absolutely, undoubtedly _his_.

Adagium started panicking harder when they tried to make him lie down. Besithia watched how his workers tried to press him down, but failed, when the man’s shaking hands pushed them away. It was… amusing, sort of, but for them to proceed something needed to be done. So, struck by sudden thought, Besithia stepped forwards and said one word.

“Noctis”.

Adagium froze right away, snapping eyes full of desperate terror towards Besithia, proving him totally right that this ‘Noctis’, whoever he was, had an obvious effect on man’s behavior. It needed to be thoroughly tested later.

“Be still,” Verstael ordered then and Adagium complied, limbs corded tight, but still violently shaking. He seemed like a string, that was about to snap.

Oh, Besithia sure wanted to see the consequences.

He moved to stand above man’s head and laid both palms on the sides of his face. Another thrill coursed through him and he smiled down at raw fear that started back at him.

“Open you mouth,” he prodded, stroking the sides of Adagium’s face, but it seemed he didn’t understand. Besithia touched corners of his lips with his thumbs and tugged, opening his mouth by himself.

Adagium let out a gasp, but didn’t close his mouth. Besithia moved his thumbs over outline of his lips, and then dipped them inside a bit. The teeth were strong and white, with no notable issues. He pressed his thumb on a man’s tongue, feeling its softness and Adagium made a strained gasp again. Besithia ignored it, feeling the skin on the inner side of his cheeks.

He saw no fangs, no roughness of skin – no abnormalities, showing what this man actually was. He seemed like a real human being, warm on the inside, but eerie cold on the outside. Besithia lifted his left hand, leaving the thumb of right’s still in the man’s mouth.

“Close it,” he ordered and Adagium slowly, hesitantly, as if unsure what to do, closed his lips around his finger.

Besithia smiled down at him and suddenly jerked the thumb up. It came out of man’s mouth with a soft pop, slightly covered in saliva. It was sticky and completely crystalline, like any other human had.

Verstael felt displeasure it was like that.

Maybe it was simple in color, but not in consistency. He nodded towards his assistants and they hurried to take required tools. Verstael looked down at Adagium and ordered him to open his mouth gain. Then he watched as those tools were dipped in his mouth, taking samples and searching – searching for those mysteries he desperately wanted to find.

Adagium not even gagged from their ministrations – he just lay there, frightened beyond measure, trembling like a leaf and doing absolutely nothing to shield himself from prying hands. Just because Besithia said ‘Noctis’.

He watched, mesmerized, as saliva started trickling from the corner of man’s mouth, down his chin and touched it with his finger, smearing it between pads.

Sticky and human.

He wanted more.

When they finished and he told Adagium to close his mouth, he felt slightly disappointed. But it was okay. The man’s mouth might produce the same thing as humans did.

There were still other liquids in him to check on, after all.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

He knew that to take a sample of his urine he’d had to be able to actually produce it at first. Which wasn’t possible, given the fact that he was in no need of water or nutrition at all.

So, first of all, they would have to give him water.

Of course, Adagium didn’t understand when there were a bowls presented to him. Besithia had to tell him “Noctis wants it” for the man to stay stock still, while they tried to make him drink that water. It was distilled, filtered and injected with needed vitamins, which were directed to speed up urinating process.

Half of the water sloshed past his mouth and Adagium only blinked dumbly at it, frightened eyes darting between Besithia and his assistant. They tried the second time, while Besithia ordered him to swallow, but failed again.

After the third time they made him lie down again, opened his mouth and inserted a tube in it. When they pushed it, slick and rubber, further down his throat the man gagged for the first time. He started trashing, tearing at his throat with his own hands, as if trying to pry it open and take the tube out. It seemed he was completely oblivious that he just needed to tug it out of his mouth.

Besithia would have him do neither, anyway. So they used restraints – magnet bracelets, which pinned his arms down to his sides. Adagium stilled – an inexplicit sound somewhere down his throat and eyes full of terror. 

He gurgled when water started sloshing down his throat, dripping from the corners of his mouth. When first two-liter container was empty, he started jerking his hands. When they attached the tubes to the second container, he tore the bracelets off, jerking to his side. The water sloshed from the movement, the Adagium gurgled again and clenched his teeth around the tube – pure involuntarily reaction.

Except he bit through it, making the tube break in two halves, splashing water everywhere. He coughed the ruined part out of his mouth, curling on his side and gasping frantically. His neck and chest were completely drenched, while he proceeded to cough the water out.

Besithia touched the side of his face, moving his now drenched locks to the side and Adagium flinched, looking up at him. His desperate face and eyes, full of naked helplessness – it drove Verstael mad with need to see more, to want more, to know more.

He wanted to take him apart, bit by bit, to take out all his bones – even smallest ones – and change their places, wondering how he would move after that. He wanted to take parts of his flesh and replace them with artificial ones just to see how they would take roots in his body, or would it push them out, like something foreign.

He wanted to take his eyes out and examine them all over, checking their color. He wanted to chop his tongue off and see if the man would be able to make those sounds without it at all. He wanted to tear him apart and stitch him back. Wanted to hear his voice, after ripping out his vocal chords. Wanted to rip off his limbs and see if they’d actually grow back–

He wanted everything and he would take it no matter what.

So he ordered them to bring more bracelets and start again.

Adagium ripped them all, but not until they stuffed him with six liters of water, shoving the tube almost down to his stomach this time. Verstael smiled, tracing its outlines on his throat, feeling tremors that shook the man beneath his arms.

He pried his lab coat open and kneaded his stomach. It still was flat, even with all that water splashing inside him. He dug his fingers in smooth flesh, twisting it as hard as possible and Adagium broke two bracelets again. There were still four left, pinning him down.

Besithia pressed an open palm down his stomach, gripping the tube with his other hand and yanking it out. The left-over water splashed across Adagium’s face, trickles flowing down his chest, making small puddles near Besithia’s arm.

The man coughed, his head jerked up or to the side, while arms tugged against the bracelets, breaking two more. Besithia looked at his groin, searching for wet spots, but saw nothing. He pressed his lips in a thin line.

Was the water enough? It had to have an effect already, even just a smallest one.

He moved back, telling his assistants to knead the flesh of man’s stomach and watched. Adagium tried to squirm away, to free himself, but they only added more bracelets on him after each new he broke.

After half an hour, Besithia tugged latex gloves on and unfastened the man’s trousers. His manhood was flaccid and just like the ones average humans had. No abnormalities here, either. But there had to be, Besithia knew it. There had to be something that made him different. That placed him above them all.

He touched the man’s limb, then squeezed it. Adagium was trembling as always, squirming and thrashing – but nothing showed that his discomfort from having his manhood being examined was different than having the tube down his throat.

He didn’t show any sighs of relieving himself either.

Besithia cringed in displeasure and told his people to prepare catheter. When they inserted it Adagium froze, breath hitching. Besithia moved back toward his face, stroking the underside of it. The man’s eyes were full of terror so naked and raw it was beyond any measure now.

“It must be painful,” Verstael told him, but, of course, it was possible Adagium didn’t understand a word. “You can push it out. Just relax; we’ll take care of you.”

Still, even after the catheter was inserted it had no effect. They had to start pumping it, shoving it down as much as it was actually possible, but that still did nothing. Adagium was barely breathing the whole time, eyes wide with inconceivable horror and body locked so tight he almost stopped trembling.

When they tugged the catheter out and then shoved it in again it still gained no reaction. Besithia watched as the data on nearby monitors recorded itself and felt deceived. On the verge of angry. He looked back at their ‘subject’ and clenched his teeth.

It was no big deal. Everyone made mistakes at first steps. They just simply needed to try harder then.

So they did.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

It took them a week of repeating a process to finally understand that it was pointless. They drove their subject totally insane by the end of procedure every day. When Besithia noticed his eyes started glazing over he called the break in process. They tugged out all insertions from the man’s body, cleaned him up and left him till next morning.

Then everything repeated anew.

He didn’t even moan once – didn’t make any sound, except coughs and gasps. When Besithia told him ‘Noctis’ he let out a pitiful whimper, so small and soft it was barley any sound at all.

Still, they gained nothing after a whole week of struggle.

Taking a break for one day, Besithia looked down through all gained data again. Something they missed, something they didn’t acknowledge and so the result was none. But he was a stubborn man, nonetheless.

Maybe the whole case was that gave him only water, even injected with special vitamins. Maybe water simply wasn’t enough. So next day they started giving him special nutrition cocktails, in liquid forms. The consistency of each one would have been a poison to any other human being, but Adagium took them all – every liter.

This time it was green, blue or yellow substances, smearing his neck and chest.

This time he broke all bracelets in one go and collapsed on a floor. Propping himself on a forearms he tried to tug himself upright, or even to crawl away – he was able to drag his body forward an inch, before he collapsed again.

Some noise rumbled in his stomach and Adagium froze, propping himself up again. He started with terror-filled eyes on a floor, barely noticing Besithia and his assistant standing near, watching him closely. Then that rumble came again and Adagium gripped his stomach instinctively with one hand. That made him fall on his side, trying to curl in on himself, but he was too weak.

A rumble came again and again after that. Besihia crouched down, looking closely and waiting. He knew something would come – something had to. He was pushing so hard after all; he wanted a reward for his struggles at last.

Adagium gasped and coughed up the blue and yellow blob of liquid. Then twice again.

Everything stopped.

They waited, but nothing changed. Besithia lunged up to his feet, teeth and fists clenched. What _exactly_ did he do wrong? He didn’t understand. He needed a reaction. He needed to know something! Even harder then. He could do that.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

They made tests after tests since then, switching different ones, changing others and adding new. Adagium took each and every one, without even passing out once. It was possible he barely understood everything that was happening to him.

Besithia’s intentions weren’t to inflict more pain on him than necessary. No personal feelings involved. That was a test subject before him and he needed to gain a needed reaction from it, to have a satisfying result – nothing more. 

There was none even after two months. Adagium seemed like a black hole, consuming everything, without giving something back. Complete void, brainless and meaningless.

His brain they checked thoroughly too, meticulously, slowly, trying not to loose any detail. It gave them nothing either. The results showed simple human brain, with somewhat slower reaction. No abnormalities, no swellings, no damages of any kind.

Nothing.

By the end of second month Besithia was beside himself with rage and frustration. That was the main case to move forward, taking different route this time.

At first they started with small cuts on Adagium’s hands. Each and every one healed faster, than Besithia or one of his assistants managed to move their own hand away. That was a promising start – a light in the end of tunnel. The cuts deepened, but healed with the same speed anyway.

One day they pulled two of his teeth out – just like that, with no anesthesia or even some mild sedation. Adagium didn’t make a sound, just started at them, frightened and shivering. When teeth clinked against metal plate, there were new ones in their places already.

Besithia wanted to laugh and clap his hands. Finally, something!

They moved from there with confident intentions and every new cut healed as faster as it did before. Dissected muscles, cut out glands, parts of his ears, even his tongue – everything returned to normal in a blink of an eye. Adagium only whimpered, when they took something out of him again, but it was impossible to tell, whether he was feeling an actual pain or it was something else.

He made the same sound every time he heard ‘Noctis’. Besithia delayed his research of this subject, completely engrossed in other matters regarding Adagium. It was convenient to have such pressure level on him in a form of simple word, but the true meaning behind it would have to wait.

Adagium showed different attitude when they took off his arm. Clean laser cut, just slightly below the wrist and the man didn’t even scream. He laid on his side the whole process, but his eyes turned blank.

Completely dead.

The limb didn’t come loose. Besithia doubled laser’s intensity and tried again. It cut through flesh and bone with sickening sound, but nothing more. Arm stayed where it was and the cut healed immediately. There wasn’t even a smell of burning flesh, nor hand’s fingers twitched.

Nothing.

Adagium started blankly at his own limb, silent, wracked with slight tremors and empty, like a black hole Besithia compared him to once. He watched him, then gripped his chin, turning his face towards himself and said ‘Noctis’.

Adagium’s whole body contracted in a violent spasm. Then they started repeating themselves quickly. He squirmed away from the lab table he was in, swayed and bumped in the wall. Besithia sighed, when he collapsed on his knees, rocking back and forth. He snapped his fingers at him, raising his voice. 

“Noctis.”

The man recoiled, looking back at him and painful terror was back on his face – previous numbness washed away, if it was never there before.

They took him and dragged him back towards the table. When they started chopping off his leg, it tore a soft whimper from him, but nothing more. He didn’t struggle either, nor did he say a word.

Besithia repeated ‘Noctis’ every day since then, while they were trying to take Adagium’s body apart. His limbs still stayed in place, cuts healed immediately, but they proceeded nonetheless. When they slashed his throat open, Besithia thought Adagium might cry, but he didn’t. There was pain in his eyes, though.

He became the pain himself.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

By the fifth month they started testing his strength and that was a huge step back again. Adagium couldn’t even crush a simple pen in his palm, not to mention something more solid and durable. When they forced his fist to clench, using a double-sided press on it, they only crushed his bones, observing how they immediately shifted into place after that.

The pen remained whole.

Then press was used on his chest, on his legs, even on his scull – nothing helped. He healed as fast as before, but otherwise presses remained whole. Not even a tiny crack appeared on them once, even though they let Adagium try and stop it with his hands. He didn’t even manage to push it out, letting it crush his bones every time.

It seemed like a great failure.

The whole month went like that until Besithia snapped and changed his tests to something else again. This time he choose to check out, whether Adagium was an actual monster or not.

Whether he was something they learned to call ‘daemons’. He absorbed every material, every ounce of information that was available to him about those creatures, which Empire found centuries ago in ancient ruins of Solheim. Since then they plagued lands of the world like an unstoppable, mysterious force, bringing horrors and death everywhere.

An ancient text, Besithia found in a hidden tomb of one of Lucian Kings, stated that Adagium was a key to these daemons. If not their progenitor himself.

Verstael needed to know everything about it. He needed to extract this secret from the man, to see for himself, whether it was true or not. Even if deep down he knew the real answer already.

So they placed him in a lab with ultraviolet walls and switched them on. Full force. He recoiled from them, trying to shield himself, but no corner of the room was safe – not even a simple crack could save him from that light.

He curled in a tight ball, while his skin hissed, burning out and regenerated in the same instant, in never-ending flow of agony. Besithia looked from behind observing glass, taking his notes, calculating everything. After an hour he demanded to double the radiation’s force and then do it even more.

The room drained half of facilities’ energy by the end of the day, but Besithia paid it no mind. He stayed there, eyes and whole body glued to the glass surface, separating him from the man, whom they were burning alive for hours on end and who didn’t even make a sound, other than small gasps and whimpers that were lost to buzzing of the walls.

At least now Besithia knew for sure that Adagium was a daemon indeed.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

They locked him in that lab every four days, testing the levels of radiation he was able to sustain. The results were astounding. After these days Besithia was slightly less mad at Adagium for not showing them his true potentials in other tests. He stopped even telling him that Noctis was disappointed in him and resumed repeating those words after every failure of other tests again.

“That’s why he’s not here,” he shook his head in disappointment when Adagium was unable to relieve himself of liquids again one day. “He knows what a failure you are.”

Whether Adagium understood or not was still a mystery. But the terror in his eyes was mixed with pain at times like these. All-consuming, bone-shattering agony, as if he grasped the exact meaning of those words: that Noctis didn’t want him. That he won’t come unless Adagium would behave.

Which he was unable to do, even if he wanted.

When at the end of a month Besithia told him “Noctis hates you”, Adagium clutched his head with both hands, curled into a ball, while splattered with liquids that were shoved down his throat for the whole day, and whimpered like a wounded animal.

But even that didn’t gain a needed reaction, no matter how hard Besithia pressed, how harsher and deadlier his words about Noctis’ hate, resentment and disgust towards the man became. It just seemed to damage his mind and conscious even more than before, if that was actually possible, but had no effect on his body.

Besithia didn’t know who that Noctis was and stopped even caring, even though this word or a name had an obvious effect of Adagium. ‘Noctis’ was a tool he used on his test subject – nothing more, nothing less.

Even if that test subject wasn’t marvel he thought him to be.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for your feedback and support!  
> I love you)

The Nothing was nothing at all. That was why Noctis didn’t want it anymore. He was tired of it. He was disgusted by it. Hated it.

The Nothing didn’t want to be anymore.

Noctis had all of those because of the Nothing and it wanted to stop being. It needed to be no more. Then Noctis would be happy again.

The Nothing tried to become nothing back, but it still was the Nothing. So it tried again, and again. 

Nothing helped. It still was.

Maybe nothing didn’t want it back too.

It tried again nonetheless, because that didn’t matter. All that mattered was that Noctis would be happy when it would become nothing once more.

It had to be nothing once more. It had to try harder.

Noctis would be happy.

It had to.

…

It still was.

Noctis still hated it because it was.

Noctis needed to be happy.

Noctis hated it. Hated it.

…hatedithatedithatedithatedit…

The Nothing was. Noctis hated it.

Noctis hated it.

Noctis hated–

Noctis ha–

Noctis.

…noctisnoctisnoctisnoctis…

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

Noctis saw blue.

He saw blue and there were flashes of different colors. It was something he knew, but he couldn’t remember from where. It was something he had seen before, but he couldn’t remember when. It was something that brought pain, but everything did now, so he didn’t care.

Last time, which he couldn’t remember, he thought this place was beautiful. Now he didn’t care. It had no meaning, just like nothing else had. He was empty, just like this place was.

Except it didn’t, because there were lights. Small scattered golden lights, that slowly flowed past him, each of them like a tiny, fragile star.

They were beautiful, and they were fading. Noctis didn’t want them to.

He didn’t want them to!

So he lunged forward with body that wasn’t there, reaching towards those lights with all his strength. He had to take them back, to make them whole again. He had to grasp them, shield them again, because they were whole once, because they mattered like nothing ever did or would, because–

 _–they were_ him _and he needed to take_ him _back!_

They were whole.

…theywerewholetheywerewholetheywerewhole…

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

He needed to make him–

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

–whole again!

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

The lights scattered when blue lurched down on him, swallowing him, tearing them out of him, spearing him–

 _They were spearing him!_

It hurt. It hurt so much.

The blue consumed him, drowned him and there were pain everywhere.

It was in his back. Something came out of his back and it was so much pain he was fading away from it. He was dying from it. He was dying.

There were tears that weren’t there at all. 

There were pleas for something that weren’t there at all.

There was the last, fragile light, slowly fading in his palm.

There was a Name that was the only one thing left.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

There was something that tore the Nothing apart. It started making it nothing back.

It took it back–

–and it took Noctis too.

Noctis hated it and it was becoming nothing back. But nothing tried to make Noctis nothing too.

Noctis needed to be happy. Noctis wasn’t nothing.

He was _everything_.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

The light fell on his palm that wasn’t there–

–and suddenly it wasn’t a tiny light in his palm at all. It was everywhere and it tore the blue apart. It tore Noctis from it and he could breathe. It tugged him out and Noctis was there again, and he had a body, and he had eyes–

–and he was crying because–

He _was back!_

He reached his arms out frantically towards that light and something reached for him in return and Noctis wanted to cry, because it was there – right there, just a little bit more–

It was the same moment of eternity when something that was coming out of his back came out full force and Noctis arms dropped. Everything dropped, because the pain was nothing like he ever felt before and he screamed and the light screamed back and everything faded, because the blue swallowed them both and suddenly–

–Noctis opened his eyes and he was on something cold and something else were under him. Something hot and sticky and red like something he loved so much.

It was blood. It came from his back. And he was lying in its puddle, growing every second, because his body couldn’t move. It was broken.

He could shift only his eyes and he did and everything he saw was a huge thing, like an egg, with its half torn out, showing that blue light, streaming from it.

The blue reached for him again and Noctis _screamed_.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

It was like the world died – becoming Underworld itself. There were people around once and now there were only few of them left, with eyes wide and terrified. They didn’t move, because they couldn’t. There wasn’t a place for them to move to, because the world was–

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

–black.

It was everything now.

Nothing was black and the Nothing was it too.

Because nothing was the Nothing now.

It looked at its parts. It was hands.

It looked at it. It was body.

It looked up and there were persons looking back at it.

It knew them. It knew what was inside them.

It _heard_ them.

It felt pain, which wasn’t theirs. It felt terror, which wasn’t theirs either.

It was pain and terror by itself.

And it wasn’t nothing.

It was ‘he’.

And he had a Name.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

When Regis found his son, the boy laid not far from the Crystal, in a poodle of his own blood. His pajama top was torn to shreds on his back, revealing an ugly scar on his spine, with trickles of dark red blood oozing from it.

His eyes were opened and empty, glued to the Crystal, washing his face in its sickeningly bluish light. His hand was outstretched, fist clenched tightly, as if in a feeble attempt to protect something in it.

When Regis took him in his arms, his hand fell down his side, fingers opening, but nothing came out except one tiny dot of light, which disappeared before it touched the floor.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

Verstael Besithia stood among the pieces of metal and stone, that was his facility once. Nothing was left – everything was destroyed, together with ninety percent of people working in it. 

Consumed by something he couldn’t even name, because there was no sound left in him to do it. He barely tried to think how he managed to escape with few other people, when everything shook, when up became down and vice versa. He barely thought about people behind him, scattered in a tight circle, shivering in cold wind and staring forward.

Staring at something he couldn’t tear his eyes away from.

There was light – blinding light of black and purple, swallowing everything around them. It swirled in a slow circle, danced like flame, tore itself from the earth beneath and fell from the sky.

The world itself was this light. This light was a marvel. Because it was coming from someone that was _always_ a marvel and Besithia was too blind to notice it at first. He wasn’t blind now – he saw everything.

He saw red, licked by that light, which came from this red too, like droplets of water. He saw arms this light was falling from. He saw body this light was curling around.

He saw gold that wasn’t afraid anymore.

And gold saw him back.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

When Regis broke all healing vials above his son’s head, pouring every ounce of his own magic in him, it fell on his back in blue light.

And Noctis screamed.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

When Besithia stepped closer Adagium sank to his knees. Verstael barely had time to react, before all light disappeared in a flash, taking gold away too.

For the first time in months of researches and tests Adagium passed out.


	13. Chapter 13

The wheelchair was big and heavy. Noctis tried to touch its sides, but his arms felt weak. He looked at them and they were too thin.

He thought “Disgusting”.

He left them in his lap and didn’t look up. Not even when he heard that his Dad took the wheelchair’s handles and slowly pushed the thing forwards. Noctis didn’t care where they were going.

He didn’t care now at all.

They entered a room and stopped. Noctis saw the marble floor, with simple patterns. He stared dully, slowly blinking and thought distantly would this floor be pretty with blood on it.

If more blood would come from his spine suddenly, would those who owned that floor get mad at him? Would they scream and tell him to go away? He wouldn’t mind to go away. He didn’t want to come here in the first place, wherever this ‘here’ was.

Someone stepped on this floor and it wasn’t his Dad – he still stood behind the wheelchair. He was silent and Noctis was glad. He didn’t want to talk now.

He wanted nothing at all.

But when he heard another step he lifted his head a bit. The room was brightly lit and it wasn’t big. It had bookcases and large windows on both sides. The colors of the room were green and silver.

It didn’t matter.

“Hello,” someone said and Noctis slowly turned his head to the side.

He saw a girl, standing near a sofa. She was tall – taller than him, maybe, though he didn’t know for sure. It wasn’t like he was standing now, really. But the girl was standing and she didn’t try to come closer. Her hair was almost white and her dress was white too. Her eyes were blue, just like his and they were smiling. Just like her mouth did. 

He didn’t smile back.

“It’s nice to meet you, Prince Noctis,” she told him in a light, tender voice.

It was the first time he met Lunafreya.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

Dad told him everything about Tenebrae and that Noctis would have to live here for some time. He didn’t try to argue, there was no point in it, when Dad decided something. Besides Noctis didn’t want to.

Lucis, Tenebrae – it didn’t matter where to live, actually. So he stayed.

Dad told him he was wounded and here, in Tenebrae, he would heal faster than anywhere else. Noctis didn’t ask any questions, he just nodded. If Dad said so, then he’d stay here and heal. Simple as it was.

Dad still looked at him strangely and stroked his hair. Noctis didn’t move back, nor did he lean in to the touch. It was simple gesture, but he felt nothing from it. He just felt nothing now at all.

So he stayed in a room with soft bed and large windows. There were books in it too – lots of them, but Noctis spared them no second glance. He had plenty of books at home too and it wasn’t like he was willing to read them all.

Lunafreya read to him nonetheless. She asked politely whether he would like her to read him something and he just shrugged. It didn’t matter: hear her reading or sit in silence – he was fine with both. She smiled at him and it was kind and tender again, but he still didn’t smile back.

Maybe she thought he was impolite, but that didn’t show on her face. She sat there, in a chair next to him and started reading. She repeated that the next day. Then she came every day. Noctis wasn’t against it – she actually had a nice voice and it didn’t irritate him. Though, nothing did. He listened too and when she tired to engage him in some kind of talk about each book they finished together he answered. It was short like “I don’t know” or “Probably” or “Fine”, but she smiled at him every time.

Every day she took him for a walk too. She gripped the handles of his wheelchair and pushed it forward, despite it being heavy. Or maybe it was heavy just for Noctis only, because of how frail he became. His limbs were thin and trembling and he couldn’t eat solid food by the time being and he was growing tired quickly and wanted to sleep almost every time.

He hated being weak.

He hated being himself.

After two weeks of living in Tenebrae he had his first nightmare. He tossed and turned and trashed and whimpered. He woke up with pitiful whine and his sheets were wet. He tried to squirm from them, disgusted and angry, then started tugging them off, but jerked too hard and fell to the floor.

He hit his back and screamed – a pitiful, ugly noise and he bit his lip with all anger he could muster, trying to be silent. But his back hurt and there was someone coming and Noctis just lay there, on a floor, helpless like a baby.

Servants came and changed his bed. They helped him wash, changed his clothes too and lowered him back on a bed. Like a doll.

Noctis never loathed himself more than that moment. He brushed their hands off, curled on his side, hiding behind covers. He didn’t want anyone to look at him. He wanted to dissolve into nothing until he was no more.

Next morning Lunafreya asked him whether he slept well and Noctis narrowed his eyes at her. Was she making fun of him? Didn’t her servants tell her what happened to him the night before? Didn’t she laugh together with them about how pitiful he was?

He turned away and said nothing. They sat in silence until she opened a book and started reading, but he didn’t hear a word from it. His ears were ringing and there was scraping sound coming from his mouth, because of how tightly he clenched his teeth.

At the end of a month Tenebrae’s gardens started to bloom. Lunafreya told him it was spring already and trees were becoming green and flowers reached towards the sun and everything lived. She seemed happy and exited, but Noctis felt nothing of the sort. They had a garden at home too and he knew what happened to it in spring and it happened every year actually, so why was the whole fuss about it at all?

But Lunafreya took him out, determined to show him the garden, chatting excitedly the whole time. The trees above them were huge indeed, and there were flowers everywhere, but Noctis spared them no second glance, eyes roaming around flatly–

Until there was one flower in his line of sight. They were passing it and Noctis froze, when he noticed it swaying slowly in the wind above others. Those others were yellow and pink and white and even blue, but this…

This flower was red, like a single drop of blood in that garden.

Noctis reached out and touched it. It swayed again under his fingers; its petals grazed the pads with feather-like touch. The flower was soft, just like other red he touched once.

Or not. Because he couldn’t remember how soft that red was.

He couldn’t remember it already.

He hated it – this flower, this garden, this weather, this chair, this hand – everything! But most of all he hated himself, for being weak, for being a baby, for sitting there, for listening to his Dad and staying, for existing at all–

Suddenly he heard a gasp and jerked his head back and there was Lunafreya, looking back at him with a strange look in her eyes. Like she was upset with something. But why would–

Oh. Noctis slowly turned his head back and there wasn’t a flower anymore in his line of sight, because he crushed it in his palm, rubbing his fingers till he turned its petals to nothing but ash. He jerked his hand back, unclenching it and what remained of a flower fell to the ground. He wanted to tell Lunafreya he was sorry, but his mouth refused to open, so he lowered his head and looked at his hands.

His thin and pale hands, that couldn’t even hold the red in them anymore without destroying it completely.

He thought “Disgusting” and it was the only word in his head when they silently came back to his room. Lunafreya read to him again that day, but her voice was quiet the whole time. Noctis didn’t ask to read louder – he didn’t care anyway.

But most of all he couldn’t – because there was something blocking his throat.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

He honestly thought Lunafreya wouldn’t come next day maybe in some sort of reprimand for him for ruining a piece of her precious garden. But she came nonetheless with a smile on her face and new book in her hands. She asked whether he was willing to listen and when he shrugged indifferently she didn’t get offended. No, she just smiled again and started reading.

This book was small and she finished it in one go. Noctis managed to hear pretty much of it, though when she asked what he thought about the plot he just shrugged again. Honestly, those kids the story was about were just dumb.

“Why?” Lunafreya asked then and he blinked, realizing he said it out loud. He risked a glance towards her and she wasn’t upset, just looked at him curiously, like she really wanted to know his opinion.

Well, if she wanted it so bad, then he would give it to her.

“Just because,” he shrugged again, glancing towards the window. There were a wind outside – not a strong one, but it ruffled bushes and trees, tearing leaves and throwing them in different directions.

“I don’t think they were dumb,” Lunafreya softly argued. She was stroking the book’s cover when Noctis glanced back at her. “They met and quickly became friends and then they went on a journey, which opened new horizons to them.”

“There’re from two different worlds,” Noctis retorted stubbornly, while a frown scrunched his brow.

Lunafreya cocked her head to the side. She seemed confused.

“Yes, but they met when those two worlds opened one night and–” she reminded him, but he was growing tired of it already. The story _was_ dumb, why couldn’t she see that?

“They shouldn’t have become friends at all!” he snapped and gripped his chair so hard his fingers hurt.

“Why?” Lunafreya asked quietly and he wanted to shout at her, because she clearly didn’t see those kids were dumb, and story was dumb too and even she was!

“They met and became these ‘friends’ and went on this stupid journey no one asked them to go to and maybe they liked it, yes, but they just didn’t think that when their worlds would move apart once more they would have to return to them and separate and that’s why they’d never see each other again and they’d miss each other greatly and that’s dumb, because if they never met at all there would have been nothing to be sorry about, don’t you understand?!”

His last words echoed in the room, leaving an awful ringing in his ears and he blinked, noticing that he moved forward so hard he nearly fell from his chair. He reared back with wide eyes and started at Lunafreya who looked back at him–

Upset. She was looking at him and she was so upset he felt like apologizing. But he couldn’t, because all words were blocked in him again and _that_ was really dumb. He felt hot all over and something heavy pressed on his ribs, making them ache. When he breathed it got worse and he tried to breathe slower, but the ache still remained.

Suddenly Lunafreya shifted towards him on a sofa, her face upset and eyes shining with so much pity. Her voice was gentler, but upset too when she spoke again.

“Oh, Noctis. Please, tell me, how can I help you?”

He stared at her and wanted to say she didn’t need to. That he was staying here because his Dad wanted him to heal from the damage done to his body, but maybe that wasn’t the real case. Because Noctis heard doctors talking to his Dad that day they found him in Crystal’s chamber, bleeding from his spine. They told him the wound mostly healed and the Prince – him – should have been able to walk; only he didn’t. His body refused to hold him and he was angry at it for being so weak, but it wasn’t because something was bad with his limbs.

Noctis was small, but even he knew it wasn’t something physical.

“How can you help me?” he asked and didn’t even recognize his own voice. Was this pitiful croak, small and whiny – his voice? “Will you bring him back? Can you do it?”

Suddenly that awful noise coming from his mouth broke and Noctis was glad it did because he hated it, but something that came instead was somehow even worse. It weren’t words or even noises. It was something disgusting and ugly, coming from that ache in his ribs that suddenly snapped and flowed through his mouth. He tried to stop it, to slow his breathing but that too became horrible – quick and short and heaving and then something snapped again and flowed from his eyes this time and he was hot all over and wet and miserable and awful, disgusting, filthy–

There were small, but strong hands around him and they hugged him tight and patted his hair, but it only made those awful things flow out of him even harder because those hands were not the ones he needed!

Because he couldn’t remember anymore how the hands he wanted felt like.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

She asked him to call her “Luna” since that day. She took him out every day, showing him every part of her palace, while telling stories about it and her family. He met that family too: her brother, Prince Ravus, and her Mom, Queen Sylva. The latter came twice a week to his private chamber to rub something cold in his spine. He didn’t ask, but she told him it was to make that scar fade.

Every time he said “Thank you” and Queen Silva would smile at him. He thought she was nice, but didn’t tell her about it. Probably it was impolite to blurt it out just like that to a real queen.

When Luna took him out for a walk, Ravus sometimes joined them. He rarely smiled, always stayed closer to his sister and never told Noctis any stories by himself. Still he helped moving his chair when Luna’s hands started trembling from effort (she never told them about it, but Ravus always guessed) and his silence somehow felt comfortable too.

Luna read to him every day and smiled at him after, asked him different types of questions and didn’t press him when he wanted to be left alone. He still wanted it pretty often. He still hated himself, because he barely gained weight and still made a mess of himself at night, but every day Luna came she told him how glad she was that they met. How she liked talking to him.

How nice he was.

Noctis grumbled at that. He wasn’t nice at all, but she just smiled at him nonetheless and said nothing.

Every time he woke up he looked at his hands and thought that a new day has started. It meant he got for a whole day older.

He was growing up.

When days became longer, Luna told him summer came. She showed him a large basin with slightly greenish but crystal-clear water. It came straight from the mountains Tenebrae stood on and had a good healing effect. She sat on its corner and dipped her legs in the water, splashing and laughing, while Noctis watched, feeling that he might want to touch that water too.

His Dad came the other day and Luna told him about the basin and when he asked whether Noctis wanted to swim he gave a nod. Turned out, the water was slightly chilly, even despite hot summer weather, but it felt nice. He couldn’t swim, because his legs refused to move properly, but Dad held him the whole time they were in water and it–

It felt a bit nice.

Then, after a week or so, there were doctors in water with them too, showing Noctis how to use his hands and legs again. At the beginning it was hard and he felt so stiff, but sooner he started getting better.

By the end of summer he swam without help.

When autumn came Luna asked him to pick books too, saying it was unfair she was only one choosing and they needed to read something Noctis wanted too. He mostly started picking books by their covers, but she didn’t mind anyway.

Despite books weren’t something he wanted.

In winter Luna showed him how to build a snowman, dragging Ravus in the process too. He built a big lump of snow, rather than an actual snowman, but Luna only giggled and said she liked it anyway. Ravus smiled at her – he did it every time he was looking at his sister.

Noctis watched them both, then glanced at a snowman Ravus built and told him it was nice indeed. Ravus gave him a long stare, then nodded slowly. He didn’t give him a smile he gave to Luna, but his eyes were kind.

When spring came again, the garden in Tenebrae bloomed even harder than before. There were flowers everywhere and Luna laughed, running among them, picking some of them and making a flower crown for Noctis. He allowed her to crown him and when she did it felt nice.

He smiled at her and she gave him a hug for that.

By the end of spring he learned how to make a flower crown too. He did one for Luna and for Queen Sylva too. They both wore them for the whole day, making him blush and sputter that it was just for fun and they didn’t have to. They told him they were glad and he was such a good person for making crowns for them.

He smiled again after that.

By the end of a year he stepped out of a wheelchair. After a month he was walking freely again, with just a slight, barely noticeable limp. Dad hugged him and told him they were alike now, because Dad had one too. Noctis knew it was caused by the ache in Dad’s knee.

He didn’t hate his own limp – he stopped hating himself. He gained some weight and his limbs weren’t shaking anymore. When he stared at himself in a mirror he even liked what he saw. Luna did too, because one day she told him he was pretty.

He smiled sheepishly at that, thinking that maybe he was pretty indeed. It wasn’t like Luna was lying to him, after all.

Then one day Dad came again and told him it was time to go back home. Noctis didn’t get upset; he came to miss Lucis a bit and was glad he would return. That didn’t mean he was glad separating from Luna, but they were friends now so that meant they would meet again, wherever they liked.

A few days before his departure she came to him again with a book. It was big and its cover was blue with lots of stars. Noctis thought they shone a bit when he looked at them. When Luna opened it he listened intently.

That was a day he learned what a Cosmogony was.

Next day he met a woman with deep kind voice, whose eyes were closed even when she moved or talked. She told him her name, but she knew his already. When his Dad came for him and they left Tenebrae, she was standing near Luna, holding her shoulders the whole time she waved at Noctis.

He waved back too and his Dad smiled at him and asked him whether he would miss Luna and others. Noctis shrugged and told him “Sure”. Or course he would miss Luna. And Queen Sylva. And Ravus too, a bit. He would miss Tenebrae and a pool with water, and books Luna read at him and huge trees and marble floor.

And a garden – he would miss a garden too. Its flowers were really pretty, with their different colors and shapes. There were blue, yellow, white, pink and brown flowers – a whole bunch of them. They were beautiful and smelled nice. He asked Luna one time whether there were flowers with other colors in her garden, but she smiled at him and said “Not anymore”.

Well, he was fine with those anyways.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

One day he woke up, realizing something changed. He looked himself up and down in a mirror, touched his face, tugged at his hair. He seemed different now: taller, shoulders broader, face bigger.

He was growing up.

Then another day their royal tailors came and Noctis realized he would need new clothes now too, because soon his present clothes would become smaller.

He was _really_ growing up.

His lessons with Ignis ended, because his retainer learned something different now – something opposite to things the King would need to learn. Moreover they met often now, when Ignis started coming to him at mornings, helping him change his clothes and escorted him to a dining room. Noctis understood it was part of his job now – because Noctis was slowly walking a path to become King in a future.

He wasn’t a child anymore. He needed to learn and do what was expected from him.

No one asked what he wanted – they thought they already knew. Maybe they did, because Noctis wasn’t really opposed to anything his father or his retainer or Gladio or the whole castle told him to do.

Because, when he asked himself silently what he really wanted, he came up with nothing. There wasn’t something he wanted anyway, so he was fine with learning how to become a King.

…He wanted something once – a long time ago, but with each passing day Noctis couldn’t remember what it was anymore. He was fine with it, because if he forgot, then maybe it wasn’t something important. Otherwise he would still remember it by now.

He didn’t.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some minor but still developments in this chapter.  
> Also, please, MIND the tags!

The laser touched the skin and vanished with a snap. The assistant fumbled with controls and tried again, doubling laser’s power. It buzzed loudly this time, but never managed even to graze the skin, because vanished again. The assistant tried for the third time, turning the power to maximum.

The laser’s handle burst up in his hands, throwing parts everywhere. The assistant jerked back with a shout, quickly moving away. When he looked at Besithia, the latter gave him a quick glance, and resumed tapping on his tablet.

Twenty-sixth attempt. Failure once again. But the one he was expecting.

The one he wanted to see from the beginning.

Adagium’s skin was unbreakable. Nothing damaged it – no lasers, no surgical knives or other equipment that was available to cut. They broke everything, trying and failing to make even a slightest cut on his skin. Even needles broke, without making a simple jab on a flesh.

Besithia set aside his tablet and looked the man in question up and down. Adagium didn’t look back, but that was understandable, judging by the state he was in. That state was different than previous one, though, still not satisfying.

It could be described by the word ‘stupor’ now, because that was how it looked. Adagium barely moved – limbs heavy and slack. When they placed him on a lab table, he just lay there, motionless. When they made him sit – he sat without swaying or falling. They took his arm and he didn’t jerk it back. They placed electrodes on him and he didn’t react.

He was like a doll – completely pliant, but empty.

Though, worst of all were his eyes with their dead, vacant stare. They didn’t move, the pupils stopped reacting, staying in the same size and color.

He stopped being scared, stopped reacting to everything done to him or people around him. He stopped feeling at all, as if life drained out of him, spilled out in a rush and disappeared entirely.

Adagium’s body lived, still breathing, but he was undoubtedly dead.

Besithia knew he would have been fine with just a body for a while. After that – well, they would see and react according to situation. After all, no one knew, after seven months of failure and disappointment, that Adagium would destroy the whole facility in one go. That light which surrounded him in that moment turned to ash even metal and stone, not to mention what it did to people and the whole ground.

When Adagium passed out after that and they moved to new facility, Besithia had plenty of time to learn and gather some information from bits and pieces he stored away everywhere (he hadn’t kept all his researches in one place, that would have been totally unwise). For that time he searched for a meaning of this light. After all, the daemons appeared in a flash of it too.

By the time Adagium awakened in that new state, Besithia knew this 'light' was Starscourge. 

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

When they placed him under ultraviolet radiation again he didn’t flinch away from it. Didn’t even react, sitting on a floor and looking at the hands in his lap with empty, dead eyes. When they doubled the power nothing happened too. His skin hadn’t even reddened a bit, but when they turned the power to a maximum level the light appeared again.

Besithia’s hand jerked towards controllers, but he stopped himself. He looked, mesmerized, as this light poured out of man’s skin like a thick smoke. It stopped after few minutes, but Adagium’s skin remained untouched.

Verstael needed to know more. Needed to compare. So next time they placed there the cell with three daemons. Adagium didn’t react to them, but they very much reacted to him, trying to break the bars, hissing and reaching towards him with their clawed limbs.

The radiation sprang to life and the daemons didn’t even have time to wail – they faded away in a flash, leaving no trace on a cold concrete. Adagium didn’t even turned his head, motionless and hollow.

Next time Besithia switched the controller and the cell opened. Daemons rushed out of it, scattering around the room, clawing and scratching at walls. They quickly left everything they were doing for possible escape and lunged themselves at Adagium. Besithia knew they would tear him apart in a minute and wondered, whether he would heal from wounds inflicted by daemonic creatures as fast as from the ones inflicted by humans.

Daemons fell a foot away from him and started writhing. Their hissing turned to whines, they clawed at concrete in feeble attempts to pry it open and hide in there from the light that soon would turn them to nothing.

They reached for Adagium, as if pleading him to protect them.

The ultraviolet rays washed the room, erasing the daemons in quick puffs of blackish smoke. Their silent pleas left unheard, because Adagium’s face remained the same as always.

Empty.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

Besithia tugged off his gloves and touched Adagium’s face. He traced the outline of his jaw, feeling light stubble, which didn’t grow even an inch longer after all this time; touched his lips, his eyes. Pressed his fingers against eyelashes, but they didn’t even flutter.

Adagium barely felt someone was near. Probably didn’t understand he was being touched and examined. His dull, vacant stare bored holes in Besithia’s head, but the latter paid no mind to it. He tugged off the string on Adagium’s hair, brushing soft locks, tugging on them, curling them around his fingers. He turned the man’s head here and there, but he stayed unemotional and irresponsible even when Besithia started pulling his hair harder.

He hadn’t managed to tear out even a single hair, no matter how hard he pulled.

When he tugged hand out of Adagium’s locks they fell on his shoulders and down his spine freely. Thin strands stuck to his lips, fell over his eyes, but he didn’t react. Besithia brushed them away and tied his hair again.

It was soft against his fingers, unbearably soft. It tickled his palm, making him want to touch it more.

He moved away and looked the man up and down. Adagium didn’t have any body hair, aside from the one on his head and stubble on his chin. Everything else was smooth and plain – Besithia learned about it in the very beginning of his research.

He traced the man’s chest absentmindedly – the part that wasn’t covered with lab coat. It felt taut against his fingers. The skin was silky-smooth, with no traces of possible irritation from ultraviolet radiation they inflicted on him every day now.

Besithia moved closer and sniffed the man’s neck.

Nothing. Adagium’s body didn’t smell: his feet, his mouth, armpits, even his ears – they had no smell at all. Nor did it produce sweat, as it turned out. One day they placed Adagium in a room, tuned on the heat controllers and made him endure unbearable temperatures no human was able to stand. He sat there the whole twenty-four hours and when they took him out he looked the same, with no traces of sweat on him.

Next time it was a room with no oxygen. No daemon was able to stay alive in a place like that. Adagium stood in the center of a room, motionless and dead and his chest didn’t rise and fall. He didn’t breathe for another twenty-four hours and that made nothing to him at all too.

Besithia smiled, moving his fingers across the man’s collarbones. He tugged his coat’s wide collar to the side, baring his shoulder and gripped it, testing muscles under his palm. They were taut too, not too prominent, but obvious. Adagium wasn’t frail or soft, he had a fine, gent body.

He was beautiful. Tall and handsome.

It was even a shame he was a monster, actually. 

Besithia’s assistants whispered the other day that these looks may have been a trick. That Adagium used his abilities to make himself seem this perfect to others, but it was a disguise and his real appearance was ugly and horrible. Besithia paid no mind to this nonsense. He knew the real truth, after all.

Something so beautiful couldn’t have been ugly.

No, Adagium was _marvelous_. And Besithia was the one who held this marvel in his hands.

He leaned lower and sniffed the juncture of his neck and shoulder. He moved so close that one red lock tickled his nose and touched his lips. Besithia squinted at it, dangling right before his eyes. He took it between his fingers and pressed against his lips.

It had no taste.

But, everything be damned, it was _soft_.

He savored it for a few moments, then straightened up and moved closer, right between the man’s legs. Adagium sat on a metal table, his feet on a cold concrete, his body touched by other man’s hands, but showed no signs of discomfort.

He showed no life.

“You’re so empty,” Besithia mused, pinching the skin on his neck and tugged it. It didn’t redden a slightest bit when he released his hold. He stroked the shell of the man’s ear, fingers burrowing in softness of his hair.

“But that’s not true, doesn’t it?” he drawled, flicking a red lock. “You’re full. So full of opportunities only I can see now. All others, though,” he shrugged, “they’re just too blind. But I can show them. Show them how spectacular you are.”

He gripped the man’s chin and lifted his head, meeting his dead-eyed stare.

“Only if you show _me_.”

With his other hand Besithia quickly pried open Adagium’s lab coat and gripped his pectoral muscle hard, twisting it, trying to break skin even with his short nails. Anything to inflict pain and gain a reaction. He never released man’s chin, staring intently at his face, looking for fleetest signs of discomfort, pain, displeasure – something.

He saw nothing.

His hand dipped lower, fingers tearing at the man’s stomach. No marks appeared on his skin, neither ones on his face. When Besithia’s palm pressed on his groin he didn’t react either. Verstael started adding pressure, alternating between gripping and twisting, then softened his hold, switching to simple stroking.

It wasn’t an attempt for sexual intercourse from his part. He wasn’t affected by these ministrations by himself, not even aroused. He needed to test, to try and wrench a reaction from his subject and it didn’t matter what methods he would need to use. Physical way was the easiest and guaranteed a success in every case, be it man, woman, child or even a creature.

But this particular creature had no reaction, even when his intimate parts were being fondled or tugged. Either Adagium felt nothing at all or these things had no effect on him given the fact that he was a literal monster.

There was no way Besithia would shake him out of that dead stupor by these kinds of things. So he moved away, letting go of him completely. Adagium’s head lowered slightly from the motion, eyes on a floor now.

“I understand why you’re not willing to come out,” Besithia took a step back, arms crossing. “You thought you were chosen by the gods, but they betrayed you. Those people you helped betrayed you. The world itself betrayed you.”

He swayed closer to him again, and whispered right into his ear, while a soft lock brushed his lips.

“ _Noctis_ betrayed you.”

No reaction. Besithia straightened up again.

“Noctis left you in there. Tossed you away like some trash. Because he didn’t want you, didn’t want to see who you really were. Maybe he was afraid. Or maybe…” he paused, before striking another blow. “Maybe he envied you too. Just like his ancestor did. Just like the one who did it to you.”

He put on his gloves and moved to leave. On a doorstep he paused, looking back over his shoulder.

“Maybe this is the main reason,” his voice darkened, just like his eyes did. “The one who abandoned you. The one who hurt you. Maybe it was Noctis all along.”

Just like that he left, while the door hissed closed behind him. His words gained no reaction, either, but he wasn’t frustrated a slightest bit.

After all it was _physical_ reaction he didn’t see.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

There was a man with loud voice. This voice was telling something he couldn’t understand. Something important.

 _Noctis hates you_.

No. The man didn’t say “Noctis”. He said something else. Something more. It sounded harsh and quick. There were words in it – too many words he wasn’t quick enough to grasp.

He heard ‘traitor’ among them.

He didn’t understand. His head hurt so much and the voice was so harsh. He wanted to ask him to wait, to go slower. He wanted to understand, because it was important.

The man with that voice cut him out, and then he said something else. It sounded like ‘king’, but his head hurt so much he wasn’t sure he heard correctly. He wanted to ask the man who he was talking about.

He wanted to tell him something important too. 

_Noctis hates you_.

No, he wanted to tell him–

He couldn’t remember. There was only one word he was able to recall. It sounded like ‘brother’. Yes, he needed to call the man like that. Then maybe he would wait. Maybe then his voice wouldn’t be so harsh.

Maybe his head would stop hurting too.

The man’s voice stopped and he wanted to say ‘brother’, because it was silence now, but suddenly something moved and he saw a flash. He jerked back from it, raising his hands, but they hurt too.

Everything hurt so much.

 _Noctis hates you_.

He wanted to tell ‘brother’ that it hurt. Maybe then he would wait. Because it hurt so, so bad. But he didn’t wait, and there was a flash again and then everything hurt even harder and he tried to breathe, but that hurt too and the voice raised again and a new flash came and then–

Then someone hurt too. Someone he held in his arms, even though they hurt so much. And theirs voice wasn’t loud. They said something and it sounded so weak. They said something that once was important to them.

Something that hurt too.

Then that weak voice stopped, but the hurt remained and when he looked he saw that ‘they’ were ‘she’. He wanted to ask her to say something else, but she didn’t, because her voice died.

A harsh voice came again and it had a new sound to it. Something like a ‘sneer’. The voice said something that hurt. 

It said ‘monster’.

He turned to the man with harsh voice and the man said ‘monster’ again.

His head hurt so much. He wanted to reach out and tell the man to wait, but there was no man suddenly. He was everywhere now and it hurt.

He reached out, towards something that could help. He knew it could, even if not him, then maybe it could help ‘her’, because her voice died and it was bad, because it had to be alive again. It didn’t hurt when she spoke. He reached towards ‘help’, but it never reached back.

It said ‘monster’ too and pushed him away. He fell and she fell near him and he reached to her this time, because maybe then he would help her. He didn’t know if he could, but her voice was so good. He wanted it back.

He wanted to touch her, but suddenly the man was there instead and she faded. He wanted to tell the man something.

 _Noctis hates you_.

No, he wanted to tell him something else. He wanted to say ‘brother’ and ‘please’. He wanted to ask him to wait, because he needed to reach to ‘her’ and bring her voice back.

The harsh voice didn’t let him.

It said ‘monster’.

 _Noctis hates you_.

Everything ended.

It still hurt.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

…the plain voice said “There are eight spikes, Your Majesty”…

…the harsh voice answered “Make them ten”…

 _Noctis hates you_.

It hurt.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

It hurt _so much_.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

They moved Adagium back to his room and made him lay on a bed. His empty, motionless eyes stared at the ceiling.

They switched off the light, locked him away and left.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

There was something bright. The whole world was bright and it hurt, but he needed to move. When he did something appeared around him. A field. A tree. A someone. Someone with a voice he wanted to hear. He reached towards them, but then a harsh voice came again. He turned and the man with that voice was there. He came closer, saying something.

 _Noctis hates you_.

No, he said something else.

His head hurt so much.

He wanted this voice to stop but when he reached out someone with good voice fell into his hands.

Their voice was dead again. He couldn’t bring it back.

‘Bright’ faded and it was different kind of ‘bright’ this time. It was black and purple, but it was so bright it hurt.

It came out of him.

He clenched his face with both hands, wanting to make this hurt stop. Maybe if he could squeeze his head the hurt would go away.

It didn’t, but the field did. He was somewhere else and there was someone near him again too. It wasn’t someone with that good voice. That voice was dead.

This someone had a different voice.

This someone was–

 _Noctis hates you_.

He reached out, because someone hurt too. He felt it, because that ‘hurt’ was identical for both of them. He touched someone and it was a boy. He lay in something red.

It was called ‘blood’ and it hurt.

The boy had to be safe. The hurt had to stop for the boy.

He knew how to take someone’s ‘hurt’ away so he took the boy in his arms and tried to take it away. The ‘bright’ returned and it was black and purple again. It touched the boy and he wanted to tell it to stop, because he knew it hurt, but he had no voice.

His voice was gone.

 _Noctis hates you_.

The light took the boy away.

Everything ended.

He looked down at his hands and they weren’t black and purple.

They were red.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

_Noctis hates you_.

It hurt _so much_.

He wanted it to stop. Maybe it would stop if he’d tell it. 

But his voice was gone. Maybe he would need to take it back.

But he needed to open his eyes.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

He did.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

Besithia stood on a doorstep and couldn’t move a limb. He could only stare.

The gold stared back.

“Adagium,” Verstael said in a voice that sounded weak and hoarse.

The monster looked at him. His eyes were dead.

“That is not my name,” but his voice wasn’t.


	15. Chapter 15

Adagium, it seemed, had no memory about those times when he was in a terror-filled and catatonic-like states. He seemed to recognize Verstael, though, because he didn’t ask for his name or who he was (Verstael introduced himself properly anyway), but that might have been just lack of enthusiasm for such knowledge at all. Either way he listened patiently while Besithia told him about the place he was in.

After that he led him to a dining room, where full table of food was prepared already. Adagium regarded it with confusion, but showed no desire to eat. He touched a small loan of bread, looked at it and placed it back on a plate.

Verstael didn’t try to engage him in a conversation – he ate, drank some wine and met the gold-eyed stare when it turned towards him.

Adagium’s eyes still were completely dead – no traces of emotions in them, nothing at all. Vacant and empty, just like their owner seemed. His face showed some expressions of course – confusion for example, but otherwise it stayed as empty as his eyes were.

Besithia doubted that emptiness prevented Adagium from understanding quite well everything that happened around him. It didn’t matter he wasn’t showing it openly. There was a mind of a monster in that head of his. Mind that stitched itself back and made the man’s consciousness whole again.

Every time Adagium met his eyes Besithia waited for something. He knew something would eventually come and the tension in the air rang like myriads of wires, strung so tightly that a single touch could break them all in one go.

After that unproductive dinner he showed Adagium the way back to his room. The man looked at the corridor once and just walked beside Verstael silently, empty gaze on nothing in particular. He still limped slightly and still had no boots but was totally unbothered by it. He never mentioned it or asked for some shoes, like it was no big deal for him.

When Besithia showed him how to use shower Adagium held his hand under a spray for a few minutes, then nodded and said:

“Thank you.”

Next day Besithia took him out for ultraviolet test again. Adagium gave no protest when they locked him in that room. Instead he turned towards cell with new daemons and watched them for a second or so. Then he touched the bars and they dissolved under his hand, letting the daemons out. They didn’t scatter, nor did they hiss anymore. No, they stayed at his feet, making those whining sounds again. Adagium slowly reached for them and that was when the radiation lit up the whole room again.

The daemons faded in front of his eyes, not even able to make a sound. Besithia saw how Adagium’s hand hovered in the air for a bit, like he still waited for daemons to appear. It was as if he wanted to actually touch them.

When they opened door again he walked out silently. Besithia caught his gaze for a moment and there was still nothing in there. Besithia wanted to know why but Adagium walked past him and returned to his room. He never asked why he was placed in that room in a first place. He never tried to complain or tell them he didn’t want to.

He seemed as empty and dead as before.

And the wires in the air vibrated every day.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

By the end of a week Besithia woke up to an alarmed message from his assistant. His first thought was about Adagium, but the truth somehow was even worse.

Iedolas Aldercapt was in his facility – his private Magitek engine boarded only minutes ago. It seemed Emperor had a sudden urge to pay unwanted visit. Besithia gritted his teeth in irritation – damn this man with his sudden flaws and decisions.

His Royal Majesty awaited him in a parlor, with lips drawn in a tight line and a frown on his face. Besithia couldn’t remember a time when that face wore different expression. He bowed respectfully and received a curt nod in return.

Aldercapt, it seemed, wanted to know how his researches went and when the actual results would show themselves. Researches aside from Adagium, of course – this was still a secret Besithia needed yet to reveal. After all, at first there wasn’t something to reveal, actually, with how unproductive earlier test were.

He started explaining his other work, meticulously showing Emperor that it was more important even than all government issues they had by now. Aldercapt listened for some time, massaging the side of his head from time to time as if in deep thought. Then without warning he stood up and asked whether Besithia would have a walk with him.

Verstael bit his tongue from spilling that he’d rather have His Royal Majesty get away from here as soon as possible but quickly stood too. There were two royal guards waiting for them outside who walked a foot behind them as if it was possible something in this facility might have caused Emperor sudden harm.

When they walked past Adagium’s room something inside suddenly crashed. Besithia watched in silent horror as Iedolas frowned and turned to the door.

“Open it,” he ordered in a harsh but even tone. They both knew he won’t repeat twice.

The door hissed when Verstael pressed his palm against side-panel, letting them both in. Adagium stood near the bookcase, some of the books were scattered beside him on a floor. He reached for them when the door opened and managed to take one before Aldercapt and Besithia approached.

Emperor met golden-eyed stare and frowned a bit. He towered above Adagium who was half sitting on a floor now with book in hand and neither of them spoke first. Then Aldercapt threw a look towards Besithia again.

“Who is that?” 

Verstael hurriedly fumbled for explanation that would seem presentable enough for now. Adagium, moreover, straightened up, looking at them. Before Besithia managed to say something the man spoke first.

“It’s in the back.”

Both of them looked at him but when Besithia tried to give the man a Look to make him shut up, Aldercapt raised his brows.

“What?”

Adagium looked somewhere at his head as Besithia noticed. He still didn’t release his hold on a book too. Suddenly he reached with his other hand – right towards the Emperor. The guards immediately lunged forward but Aldercapt raised his own hand, halting their movements.

Adagium’s fingers touched the back of his head, pressed and withdrew. Everything in matter of seconds. Aldercapt was still frowning but his own hand twitched like he wanted to touch that place on his head too. Besithia just looked at the two of them completely at loss and barely understanding what actually happened.

Then Emperor turned on his heels suddenly and walked out of the room. Verstael threw Adagium a quick look but the man turned to the bookcase again and he had no choice other than hurry towards his Emperor listening how the door closed behind him.

Aldercapt waited outside and ushered him to continue talking which Besithia did with a slight frown. The man listened very intently, throwing some questions from time to time. After a few hours of this sudden report Emperor left summarizing that he was ‘pleased’ with the way everything was going.

He didn’t ask about Adagium even once pretending as if that encounter hadn’t happened at all.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

After a week Iedolas Aldercapt came to that particular facility again. Not bothering to wait for Verstael Besithia to come and greet him he walked straight to the room he visited last time. The same man was in there too.

Red hair, golden eyes – Aldercapt looked him up and down properly this time. The man didn’t greet him, nor did he bow. Either he didn’t know it was an Emperor before him or he simply didn’t care.

It was… interesting a bit but not as much as other thing. The thing Aldercapt came here for.

“What is it today?” he asked without bothering to ask the man who he was or tell him about himself.

Golden eyes turned towards him. There was some strange emptiness in them – something like a far-away gaze Aldercapt didn’t understand.

“Your head still hurts,” he told him and Aldercapt barely suppressed an urge to touch the back of his head where the ache concentrated. Just like it did the last time and just like it disappeared completely after this man touched him.

Aldercapt sat, not tearing his eyes away from this man. The one in question touched some book on a shelf but didn’t pick it. His fingers traced the cover absentmindedly like he couldn’t decide whether he wanted to read or not.

Iedolas felt something tugging at him – it was a strange feeling he never had before. He bumped his fingers against the chair’s handles and clicked his teeth. When the man turned Aldercapt motioned him to sit down. He moved towards another chair, slightly limping.

“Why don’t you help yourself?” Emperor prodded when the man sat too.

He gave him a slightly confused look in answer which didn’t reach his eyes at all.

“Your leg,” Aldercapt motioned towards the one in question. “Why won’t you do something about it if it hurts?”

The man lowered his gaze towards his leg. After a long moment of silent observation he gazed back.

“It doesn’t.”

Aldercapt pursed his lips and regarded him with narrowed eyes. He seemed worn-out as if every move was tiring him greatly but his back was straight and he didn’t show signs of discomfort. Emperor propped chin on his hand, leaning to the side.

“Do you know who I am?” he asked and the man shook his head. “How long have you been here?” this earned him a slightly confused look. “Why Besithia keeps you here?”

“He wants to know what I am,” the man simply answered in a calm voice. Aldercapt doubted the word ‘what’ was a simple slip up.

Crossing his hands he let a smirk tug at his lips. He felt this talk would be an amusing experience to have.

“And what are you then?” it seemed like a bizarre game of riddles. He never liked one, even when he was small.

The man cocked his head to the side but his blank expression didn’t change, even after he gave Aldercapt an answer he never actually waited for.

“Depends on what you want me to be.”

They fell into silence that actually barely felt like it at all. Something was in the air between them, floating around the room and waiting to be touched. Aldercapt felt an urge to lift his hand and feel what exactly it was. But when he looked the air was empty. So were the man’s eyes when he met their stare again.

“What is your name?” he asked instead and something flickered in that emptiness for a brief second. For that same second it seemed like the man tried to remember something he forgot.

Something important.

But the second ticked by and everything became empty again.

“Ardyn,” he told him at last and this invisible something between them faded away.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

“You should give him shoes,” Aldercapt told Besithia when latter found them exactly in the same place after an hour. “And a new clothes too. It seems he doesn’t like the fabric of those ones on him.”

Verstael blinked at him and turned to Adagium. He tried to open his mouth to speak, but the man beat him to it.

“Ardyn,” he cocked his head to the side and something flickered in the golden emptiness. Something too quick to grasp. “That’s my name.”

_Adagium_ , Verstael thought and the man’s face twitched. Just like–

For the first time in months Verstael Besithia contemplated the fact that the man before him had another ability they didn’t think to test. The ability no one would be aware of, before it could be shoved right into their faces.

_Can you read my mind?_

An empty golden-eyed stare regarded him for a moment longer before Adagium– Ardyn turned towards Emperor again. But not before Besithia saw this twitch on his face once more.

He knew the exact name of this twitch actually. On every other person’s face it should have been called _a smile_.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

He hadn’t felt like smiling when Ifrit touched him. No, what he felt was pain – deep, horrible agony he was familiar with already. He looked at his hands, but they were clean – no spikes in them. He tried to move them away from fire which licked them, but it only roared louder.

He didn’t want to touch the god. He didn’t want the gods again – they left him once already, he didn’t want them back. 

Ifrit squeezed, demanded, roared and it hurt – in his body and in his mind, because he understood _every word_ and he hadn’t even knew how. Those words were harsh – as much as those ones before, a whole eternity ago.

Words that someone else spoke.

He didn’t want to touch. He didn’t want to do what Besithia wanted him to do, but that voice demanded something, that voice called him something he never thought he’d hear before–

_–Lucis Caelum–_

And suddenly the light – black and purple – was everywhere, it tore at his mind, at body, it consumed the god, making him disappear in a flash of golden lights that reached forward, touched him and he didn’t want them too.

It hurt so much.

It hurt still when his knees touched the ground. It hurt when yellow spikes of wheat brushed his arms. It hurt when the sky turned completely black and pressed down on him, as if trying to swallow him.

It hurt when someone called the name that wasn’t his anymore. It still hurt when he knew that voice, when he reached towards it and it was ‘she’ again and her words were painful and ruthless and she asked him something – something he couldn’t do – and she pleaded, demanded, cried…

And then another voice joined them – the voice from before, the first one, which hurt so, so much. It took everything from him, it took even the good voice – and her too – and when he tried to touch her, to help her get her voice back the black and purple took her away.

The harsh voice sneered and mocked and told him something that hurt so awful that he wanted to grab his own head and squeeze this voice out. To do anything to make it stop.

He looked up and the man was right in front of him – his voice was cruel and his hair was black and his eyes–

They were blue.

Suddenly there wasn’t a man anymore. Suddenly those eyes looked at him from the boy’s face. The boy he knew. The boy he–

“You’re nothing,” the boy said in a harsh voice that wasn’t his.

“I hate you,” and the blue in his eyes shone with that hate so hard it hurt.

It hurt differently this time. He didn’t know how to explain it – he still had no name to it. But it hurt and it was more than agony, more than ‘black’ and then ‘bright’, more than iron in his body, more than every breath which made that iron shift and tear at him every time.

_Noctis hates you._

He reached for him. He wanted to tell him, wanted to tell him that he was sorry he existed. He didn’t want to make the boy hurt, he would take all this ‘hurt’ from him if only… If only–

_Please, don’t hate me._

_Please–_

When he touched, something started trickling from the boy’s spine. Something thick and red. He tried to stop it, pressing his hands against it but they became red too.

The boy in his arms moved back, but he didn’t see blue this time. This time these eyes were transparent and he saw something awful in them. He saw black tears on monster’s face. He saw gold, surrounded by sickeningly purple flesh.

He couldn’t ask who that monster was.

He knew already.

“I hate you,” the boy hissed and screamed, trashing in his arms, dissolving in a heap of flesh and blood and the monster reached for him frantically, but his hands were red too, his tears were black, his voice was–

His voice was gone.

Because monsters could only scream themselves.

They screamed when they turned black. Screamed when he took that black from them. Screamed when they vanished. They screamed when they were born. They screamed in his head in countless voices and those screams tore bits that were still him to nothing.

_Noctis hates you._

He looked at his hands – they were still red. 

He felt like crying, but his tears were black now.

The monsters screamed. It hurt. He knew the name for this ‘hurt’ finally.

It felt like dying.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

He wanted to cry but something else escaped his mouth.

He touched his face, but the black from it was gone.

Something else was there now. Something on his lips. Something that wasn’t there before.

Something that should have been showing ‘happiness’.

He didn’t know what it was.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

When Ardyn smiled, it still felt like dying.

It didn’t matter – he couldn’t die, after all.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So finally plot development I'm sure everyone been waiting for.  
> I was really excited writing Ardyn here.  
> Thank you for your wonderful feedback!

When the bell rang everyone left their seats. Someone gathered up in a small group, someone walked out of the class. Noise filled the room in seconds. Amongst it were whispers, hushed talks, giggles – everything like the day before.

A whole year – and they still didn’t stop.

Noctis pushed the book he was reading aside and walked out of the class too. Whispers hit his spine everywhere he went, stares followed him, scrutinized him. He wondered when they would grow tired of it.

At first his classmates were excited to try and get to know him. Boys told him some jokes he barely understood and laughed at them themselves, barely noticing his confusion. Girls asked him lots of questions, looked at him with wide eyes and giggled. They always did that.

He never answered even a single question. He didn’t want to tell them how much servants Citadel had (he barely knew it himself). He preferred not to share the books he liked to read too – partially because he thought they would be too boring for his classmates. He read a lot about fishing, but no one in his class told him that they liked fish even once.

They liked their mobile phones and sports (boys) and their dresses and hairpins (girls).

They were trying to become his friends, but he didn’t want them too. Because he knew it wouldn’t be a true friendship in the end. They didn’t want ‘Noctis’. All they wanted was ‘Prince Noctis Lucis Caelum’ and he didn’t want to give them even him either.

After a month he heard _'Ice Prince'_ for the first time.

It wasn’t said right in his face, of course, but everyone quickly passed this particular nickname between themselves, whispering it behind his back mockingly. Noctis pretended he didn’t hear. It wasn’t important what they thought of him, really. If they wanted to call him that – they could.

Noctis didn’t care. He didn’t want friends, after all.

He was fine with Ignis, who wasn’t his _friend_ , actually, because it was his job to take care of Noctis. But Ignis was smart and he never tried to pry something out of him. When Noctis was in mood to talk, Ignis listened. They both were fine with it.

It was easier with Ignis than with his father, after all. When they had dinner or breakfast together, which wasn’t too often as years went by, Regis would ask him about school or how was his day. When Noctis would merely shrug Regis would wish him to have a good day or make new friends. When Noctis would answer “Okay” they would fell into silence and part till next time.

He didn’t felt bad, actually, when it was like that. His father was a King and he had an important job to do. And Noctis…

Noctis was fine by himself.

…He walked to the school’s backyard and stood there for some time. When the blond, shy boy peeked at him behind the corner Noctis noticed. He always did, but he never encouraged the boy to come closer. If he wanted he could make first step by himself. Noctis knew he won’t shoo him away, but he won’t be the first one to initiate whatever the boy wanted either.

So they stayed like that. The boy would peek at him, Noctis would wait. Then the boy would shuffle away, with his head lowered and Noctis would go to Ignis, who would wait for him already at the school gates.

He would come back at the Citadel, train with Gladio, read his books, play some games, had dinner alone or with his father and go to sleep. Next day would repeat itself with barely any changes. He would be called an ‘Ice Prince’ behind his back again, the boy won’t come closer and the world would move despite his whishes.

At night he would dream of learning how to fish or meet Carbuncle. Sometimes he would see Luna’s beautiful garden of flowers and roam through it, searching for something. 

He wouldn’t find it anyway.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

It was just another day – a simple sunny day at school. Lessons Noctis learned, jokes Prompto told him during a break, photos they took together in the backyard…

Everything was fine.

Then suddenly Ignis came right into his classroom – which he never did before. One look at his face made Noctis gather his schoolbag and head towards the car. He didn’t ask questions on their way back to the Citadel – he knew Ignis wasn’t the one he would need answers from. They rode in silence and it was tight – suffocating. Noctis didn’t like it.

He went straight up to his father, right at the throne room, where he was sure the latter was. Regis stood amongst his advisers, his Shield – Clarus – right beside him and there whispers – alarmed, frantic whispers echoing all through the grand place.

Noctis came closer and they looked at him – all at once. He was looking at his father only and Regis’ face was grim. He raised hand towards him and when Noctis approached that hand touched his shoulder.

It was supposed to be just another, simple day.

It became the day Queen Sylva died. The day Tenebrae was attacked by daemons – creatures of darkness, which invaded the kingdom of peace in a merciless flow of horrors, bringing death and destruction.

Noctis listened with heart beating frantically somewhere in his stomach, as his father’s Council hurriedly reported that Royal Forces could be sent to Tenebrae only the next day and it would take three days more for them to arrive there. He knew, without even looking at his father’s face, the true meaning behind these words – by that time Tenebrae would turn into cemetery.

Tenebraen forces accumulated and tried to prevent the daemons from infiltrating the palace, giving their own Council enough time to send an alarmed note towards the country’s neighbors, frantically asking for help. Because the daemons came in a never-ending flow, bringing only death. Then it was Queen Sylva, who stood at the front line, using the last ounce of her magic to stop the monsters – to protect her home, her people and her children.

When her magic has run out, Tenebraen guards protected her with their bodies, in a feeble attempt to shield their Queen from claws and fangs, tearing at them. She had time to return to her children, ushering them towards hidden escape route, but it was too late. As the note said she only had time to lock Prince and Princess in secret chamber, before summoning last bits of her power and destroying monsters, which broke through every defense, surging into palace like an unstoppable wave.

Regis started giving orders, sending his Council to make sure their Royal Forces were able to depart right at that moment and not a second longer, but Noctis heart seemed like a rock nonetheless. Because everyone here new it won’t be enough – it would be too late for that.

Tenebrae would be dead in a matter of hours, along with her Queen, Prince and Princess.

Ravus and Luna were, probably, still alive and the hot cord pierced Noctis’ stomach every time he tried to think about them. Every time he imagined them there, hidden in a chamber, in each other’s embrace, hearing how their Mother gave her life for them and their country and being unable to protect her, help her.

He gripped the Council table, digging fingers in its surface and tried not to think, not to feel, because otherwise he’d sob like a child he wasn’t anymore.

He was helpless and weak again as well as his father was and their whole kingdom was too, because they sat here, trying to do something when nothing couldn’t be done at all.

Everything ended already.

His nails scraped along the cold table’s surface when the doors opened again and his father’s Council returned. It was the moment they told another note was hastily sent by struggling Tenebraen forces. About how the sky suddenly opened, dispersing the clouds, and ships came out of it, with their weapons loaded. How those ships surrounded the palace and armored army stepped out of them. An army with guns which started firing, destroying every creature, every monster still alive.

More ships infiltrated all midair around the country, letting the same soldiers out, which started cleansing every surface from daemons, turning them to piles of burning limbs or even using some sort of ultraviolet weapons to disperse monsters completely. Monsters that shouldn’t have been able to rise in daytime, because everyone knew the daemons appeared only at night. 

It was the day Tenebrae fell, only to raise from its knees with Niflheim's arm around it.

Only by the end of the day they received more news from Tenebrae: the ones, confirming the devastating fact that the Queen gave her life for her kingdom; the ones, stating that Niflheim’s army started roaming though whole county, seeking and destroying every daemon left; the ones about how Niflheim brought quick medical help, trying to ease the damage somehow and the ones, proving that Prince and Princess were found unharmed and alive.

Noctis wanted to cry and wail in joy, when he heard the last part. He wanted to grab his father’s hand and tell him it was going to be okay, they would help too, they would mourn with Ravus and Luna, but they would help, just like their mother helped them all these years ago, but his father’s face was dark with lips set in a tight line and he was looking nowhere in particular, arms clenched on top of his cane.

Noctis never said anything. He just sat there and waited – everything he was capable of at that moment.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

In the end their forces never reached Tenebrae. The next note said Niflheim already had everything covered and under control, so both these countries didn’t see fit for Lucis to send their help too.

In the end the dark look on his father’s face hadn’t disappeared for days afterwards.

It was barely half a year later, with limited news reaching them, when Tenebrae became part of the Empire. Regis said nothing the first day the world learned this news. Noctis could only stand by him and watch how hard his fingers clenched his cane, how thin and pale his lips seemed and how the Ring on his finger flickered to life, its light dull and grey.

He never contacted Luna and Ravus since then.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

Besithia closed another report with a sigh, rubbing his already tired eyes. There was a pile of identical folders presented on a table before him, ready to be checked. Too much of them, actually, which couldn’t be helped, though – the Empire was growing rapidly, consuming more territories, which meant more added services, more added checks, more added people to have in command…

At least, the plans never failed them once. 

They started with Tenebrae – Aldercapt wished to swallow this huge chunk first, without delay. That’s were Besithia took a stand – everything he waited for all these years or researches. The whole facility, stuffed with creatures, modified under his command with the view of creating something that could stand the day’s light – and every horrendously-perfected creature of it was pulled off the leash in one instant.

That was the day Tenebraen grass changed its color from green to red. Besithia observed from his vantage point aboard his private Magitek engine, how chaos was wrecked in single minutes upon once peaceful land. 

In a matter of hour it became evident that Tenebraen forces were too weak and incompetent to actually fight back. In less than next few hours the situation became critical and the Aldercapt’s flagman, which silently floated above Besithia’s one, signaled the forces to charge.

Engines boarded and started the 'cleansing process', eradicating every monster they saw fit. Judging by the fact that these forces consisted from MT specifically, everything they saw fit was previously downloaded in form of orders in their system.

Of course, as Besithia planned (to which Aldercapt agreed), half of the creatures they dropped in Tenebrae should have been immobilized rather than killed and quietly stuffed back on a special equipped engine. The main order was that, everything went according to it smoothly, as Besithia observed by himself through numerous cameras, placed on the MT’s armor.

In a matter of seconds he was proved wrong when daemons started dissipating. One by one they turned to dust before any gun with tranquilizer had been fired, leaving no trace of themselves, nor parts to extract new tests from.

In less than twenty minutes all Besithia’s hard work became a proverbial ash, disappearing entirely. MT’s never reacted to that, mindless creatures they were, silently waiting for a new orders to come. Besithia couldn’t give ones to them, paralyzed with shock, clenched fists grinding into his chair armrests.

But most of all he was _enraged_.

Aldercapt, moreover, sent his private – human forces down by that time, clearly signaling for the MT’s to retreat, which they did, shuffling away on engines which returned them soon back to Gralea.

Besithia, on the other hand, could have boarded the flagman, could have headed straight to the Emperor and ask him what the bloody fuck happened (in a much more polite way, of course). He decided against it, though, for the time being, knowing that time would come eventually.

It did, but not before Aldercapt sent him back to Zegnautus to wait for his return there. This happened only weeks later, but Besithia was a patient man. He waited and when the time came he charged himself.

He wanted to know and, everything in this world be damned, he demanded answers.

Aldercapt’s face and voice were as cold as snow in Ghorovas Rift when he confirmed that order to eradicate monsters completely was his. That it was a necessary move, because of the danger that daemons might have been producing some sort of immunity towards tranquilizer Besithia planned to use on them and so on and so forth. The Emperor’s speech didn’t last long, actually, and he finished it with dark reminder of who was in charge and whose orders couldn’t have been questioned.

Besithia knew very well, shifting his gaze to the side, _who_ was really in charge and whom he should have been blaming for the whole failure with getting even one of these daemons back.

 _The Chancellor_ gave him one fleeting unimpressed glance before bowing to the Emperor (honestly, how the movement of lifting his stupid hat and lower his head down a bit was even considered a ‘bow’?!) and whooshing away from the throne room, his long coat flapping slightly around his legs.

Besithia couldn’t believe he used _‘a marvel’_ phrasing on this man all these years ago.

He couldn’t believe anyone as empty as this man was back then could have become someone like that in less than one year. Verstael himself surely missed when everything turned upside down – and when he tried to do something, it was already late.

Bowing to Emperor himself Besithia stormed out of the Throne Room towards his lab quarters, presented to him by Aldercapt in western side of Zegnautus Keep. Actually he wanted nothing more than to return to his facility outside Gralea, but that wasn’t possible in a matter of minute and least of all he desired to board the engine again right now. After a few hours of working he decided against it completely and returned to the Emperor, with attempt to tell him he needs to head back already.

The Throne Room was empty besides the man Besithia didn’t hope to see that day again.

The Chancellor stood near a throne casually, his side slightly pressed towards it, arms crossed on his chest. As if waiting for someone to come. As if knowing that someone would come eventually.

Besithia knew very well already that in this man’s case there were no ‘ifs’.

“Care to tell me what the fuck went wrong that day in Tenebrae,” he scowled without preamble, motioning with his arm in the air. He still demanded answers only one man now could give.

The man in question looked at him in meticulously feigned surprise, one eyebrow slightly raised. Besithia tried to stare right at a scarf on his neck, noticing for the hundredth time its deep red color and how perfectly it harmonized the man’s hair.

He didn’t want to meet his eyes or look him in the face. But the growing silence left him no options than to raise his gaze a bit, which was a damn mistake every time. His stomach knotted in a flash of second when he saw everything all-too familiar by now.

The combination of absolutely dead, empty eyes with a smile, which could melt every snow surface in whole Ghorovas Rift raised all hairs on his body every damn time he looked. A sickeningly sweet sensation came off the Chancellor almost always – smooth and friendly in a way that made one’s insides freeze stock still.

“My, and what do I owe a pleasure of being the one to be demanded these answers from?” his voice didn’t make it any better – silky smooth, warm like honey, which coated and surrounded to the point of suffocation.

Besithia let out a slightly suffering sigh – his sudden manner of speaking could grate on nerves of even a very stoic man, whom Besithia wasn’t at all.

“I thought we agreed to follow the plan,” he pressed, narrowing his eyes when the Chancellor straitened up in one smooth ( _smooth_ – everything about him was damn smooth) motion and started walking towards him.

His slightly uneven gait – his limp was barely noticeable, since he turned his way of walking into something entirely else. He seemed to slip through entire air, slowly, every part of his body resembling honey, liquidly soft and graceful.

He moved like the whole world opened around him, fitting around his body just to make him as comfortable as possible. Besithia _never_ in his life saw something like that. Every time it made him froze from the inside, in some form of awe he tried not to show on his face too much.

The Chancellor – _Adagium_ – saw it, of course.

A few steps and the man in question was beside him already, finger raised to his chin, eyes slightly above, as if he tried to remember something.

“Oh, but I recall no such thing,” he shrugged after a moment, slightly widening his hands. “I didn’t agree to anything.”

And yes – that was true. The plan he and Aldercapt decided upon was entirely theirs. The Chancellor knew nothing about it, or Besithia hoped so. At least, they didn’t tell him anything. Aldercapt assured the Chancellor had other matters to be concerned about and Besithia himself just for some reason didn’t want to give him the details.

They made a mistake for not doing it, which was now rubbed right in his face with honey-coated words and softest of smiles.

“Honestly, I don’t know why you are trying to extract these answers from me, because surely I didn’t do anything, regarding the matter,” the Chancellor’s smile didn’t waver even a slightest bit. He seemed pleased and polite, voice gentle, which entirely disaccorded with his words. “If you have any complaints you should contact His Royal Majesty directly.”

Which Besithia already did and they both knew it. He gritted his teeth, a deep frown adding more wrinkles to his already wrinkled face. Adagium, of the other hand, looked exactly the same age as before, during their first meeting, which was unsurprising – the man looked like this for 2000 years already.

Immortal.

This word sent a pang of something Besithia didn’t want to think about now through his body. He didn’t want to give this man pleasure of sensing it inside him. Adagium’s lips curled the way that turned his smile into a smirk, making it even harder to look him in the face now.

His eyes stayed dead the whole time.

“Now,” his voice purred not far from Besithia head, making him flinch involuntarily and undoubtedly widened that smirk on the Chancellor’s face. “If you excuse me…”

Just like that he walked out of the Throne Room, his steps nearly soundless and just like that Besithia could breathe fully again.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

Noctis stood at the top of left Citadel’s tower, watching the stream of purple light rushing up towards the sky. Lucian magic – power of his ancestors, which protected their hometown now from any outside threat.

Tenebrae didn’t have one all those years ago – they had no Ring on their Queen’s finger to gather up this magic. To suck it out of the Queen’s body and create magical wall, which would thrive at the expense of Queen’s health and life.

Noctis’ father was like that. At first Noctis was too small to understand, despite seeing obvious evidence on his father’s face and body. Then one day he knew. On one sunny day in Tenebrae Lunafreya told him something his father never told before.

King of Light. Oracle.

Darkness.

He knew the day would come when he had to save this world from Darkness, spreading like illness. Would need to cleanse their precious Star from the thing that was called ‘Starscourge’ and Daemons, which were its living embodiments. The ones, which destroyed Tenebrae and threw once peaceful kingdom right in Empire’s arms.

Empire, which, as years went by, proceeded its path across the world, consuming countries, widening her territory until only small pieces of their world were left untouched by her claws. But everyone knew those pieces won’t stand a chance, should Niflheim strike again.

It did, just not the way Lucis expected.

Noctis sighed, touching the glass. It felt slightly warm, undoubtedly being in close proximity to all this magic, and vibrated faintly. He used to come here from time to time, since he was a child. Noctis started stroking the glass absentmindedly.

Someone was here with him when he was a small child, exited to be on top of the world, looking at his Dad’s magic. His first thought was Ignis until he recalled that it was someone tall. Maybe his father or Clarus or one of Glaives.

Who else he would feel safe with, anyway.

Would they all feel safe now when this peace treaty Empire proposed and Lucis had no choice than to accept be signed? What would happen from now on, when every land outside Insomnia would be called Niflheim territory? 

Was it that Darkness Luna told him about, which he needed to erase from their world? Should he be the one to prevent the treaty from happening and start a war against this Darkness, which Niflheim probably represented?

What would he have to do now?

He didn’t want to answer these questions at all. Maybe he should have wanted to get away from Insomnia for some time, taking his friends with him. To travel around the world, to see new places, to let Prompto take tons of pictures, to eat Ignis’ delicious cooking, to spar with Gladio, to invite Luna come an spend some time together, to laugh and smile, because the world was beautiful and full of opportunities.

Maybe he should have wanted all of this. But he didn’t. He wanted something else. Something he still couldn’t name. All he knew was that he had it once already and then lost it.

Now he just wanted it back.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all - finally! A chapter most of you, probably, was waiting for!  
> Secondly - I really can write fluff, though it's not so evident in here, but wait for it in future chapters definitely.  
> But the most important thing - is gratitude towards the love of my FFXV-fandom-life Wooden Deer. You're the reason this chapter is out and great. I love you!

Noctis touched his necktie for the seventh time per hour, caught Ignis gaze and let it go with a sigh. Honestly, the thing suffocated him, even though his retainer tried it and assured him it wasn’t tight at all. Still, it felt totally uncomfortable, as well as being packed into three-piece black suit, black shirt, smoothed and ironed to the point of perfection, and a ridiculous necktie.

It would have been much better if he just ripped off the damn thing and let it float in the air, falling all this way down from the very rooftop of Caelum Via – a place for the treaty-signing celebrations.

Three ships arrived earlier that day, bringing Empire’s ambassadors and representatives in the very heart of Insomnia. And among them was His Imperial Majesty, Iedolas Aldercapt himself.

Now they waited him and his people to arrive here, at Caelum Via Hotel, to drink champagne, shake his hand with King of Lucis, give fake smiles and assure everyone that it was best choice for both countries.

Noctis hand itched to touch his tie again, but suddenly father approached him with slight smile. Ignis bowed and stepped away respectfully, while Noctis raised his brow.

“They are not here yet?”

“The Royal escort contacted Clarus five minutes ago,” Regis looked across the city. Its lights started coming back to life together with approaching darkness. The Sun already set, coloring the sky in the dark purple hues. “Emperor and his retainers are on their way.”

“Of course, they are,” Noctis snorted, crossing arms over his chest. Regis wasn’t smiling when he looked at him again.

“I know you don’t like it…” he began, but Noctis just waved.

“Doesn’t matter whether I like it or not. As long as it’ll prevent the war from happening.”

A shadow crossed his father’s face and his gaze moved towards the city again. His voice sounded strained but still strong when he answered.

“I won’t have it any other way, son.”

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

When Niflheim arrived at last, the already darkened sky lit up with fireworks – their distant noise barely drowned out the music and murmurs of Lucian upper class scattered around the rooftop with champagne in their hands and polite smiles on their faces.

Regis tried to make one stick to his lips too when he spotted Iedolas Aldercapt near the staircase. The man looked up at him and started walking, his own people in tow. Regis distantly noticed that almost all of them wore Empire’s colors – white and red, with golden ornamentations, but he paid them no spare glance, focusing only on the Emperor.

Noctis stood right beside him, his face neutrally blank, thankfully. Regis asked him to drop his brand-mark frown, to which the Prince smiled and promised to try. Secretly Regis admired his appearance, noticing, not for the first time, how handsome his boy was in his early twenties.

His dear son he was so proud of.

Aldercapt approached with polite smile on his usually not overly pleasant face. For a second or so they silently watched each other, then Regis gave a small nod, widening his own smile a bit.

“Emperor Iedolas, we welcome you to Insomnia. Hope your journey was safe.”

“It’s a pleasure being here, King Regis,” the man declared immediately, giving his own nod in return. Exchanging formalities, nothing more.

Regis lifted one hand off his cane, moving it aside and Noctis, taking a hint, stepped forward.

“Allow me an honor to introduce you my son, Noctis Lucis Caelum,” he announced and Emperor’s gaze landed on his boy’s face right away.

“Pleasure to meet you, Your Imperial Majesty,” Noctis bowed his head respectfully, his voice calculated, calm and just a touch friendly. Courtesy to the point of perfection, with no attempt of leaving behind his own Royal position.

Aldercapt raised his own hand, as if to touch his heart at that.

“Honored to meet you, Your Highness,” his eyes were gleaming with interest, as he slowly looked Noctis in the face, undoubtedly searching for something only he needed to know, but Prince stayed entirely impassive.

At last Aldercapt let his lips curve more, moving his hand to the side.

“It’s a pleasure indeed to meet your son and heir, King Regis,” the look on his face seemed smug enough for Regis not to like it but not enough to have him drop his own smile. “Unfortunately, I can’t boast the same, as you may know already. Nonetheless, I do have a person I can introduce to Your Majesty as well.”

Someone moved from beside him and that was the moment a man stepped forward. A man, whom Regis couldn’t have called ‘an ambassador’ or even Niflheim’s attendant at all. Firstly, his own suit contrasted with the one Emperor and his other retainers’ wore – mostly black, with only cream-colored shirt and red scarf around his neck. Secondly and most of all, the whole clothes looked a bit strange: long dark coat, shirt with uneven edges, dark-virid trousers, red scarf and a hat. It covered mostly his face now, because the man had his head already slightly bowed.

Or it seemed so, because when Emperor raised his hand the man’s head raised too. He touched his hat, taking it off and gave a slight bow towards Regis and his son.

“Imperial Chancellor, Ardyn Izunia,” Aldercapt announced and the man’s face, when he raised his head again, had the most pleasant of smiles on it.

Maybe Noctis gave one in return, Regis couldn’t tell for sure. His own slipped away, as if erased by unknown force. Because at that very moment Regis Lucis Caelum stood atop his city, with his dear son beside him, with fireworks coloring the sky above in yellow and orange lights, but everything he saw–

–was red.

No hint of recognition appeared in monster’s eyes when he looked back at Regis. That disarmingly soft smile never wavered, golden eyes never darkened. Monster placed the hat on his head again and said nothing. He just stood there and watched.

Watched how Regis’ entire world crumbled under his feet.

It took him greatest of efforts to nod his own head in acknowledgment, but voice betrayed him, refusing to come out. He could only stand there, frozen to the spot, and look in the face of a nightmare he wished never to see again.

The nightmare looked back, and Regis… Regis couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think, couldn’t move, his throat was locked tight, and suddenly he was suffocating, falling, drowning in heat…

He felt his grip loosening around the cane and wished he was strong enough not to let it fall, not to embarrass himself and his whole kingdom by sinking to his knees before that creature. The creature that–

Suddenly golden eyes looked away from him, and the monster – _Imperial Chancellor_ – inclined his head towards the Emperor. Aldercapt nodded, and monster gave another polite bow before turning and walking away.

Just like that Regis could breathe again and he wanted nothing more than to rush towards the monster, telling him to get away from here right now, make him disappear and never resurface again. But Emperor was talking something already – something about how nice the view was, how beautiful Insomnia looked – and Regis was brought back against his will.

He answered something too, some words with no meaning behind them, but the ringing in his head intensified and the whole world felt vague. All he could do was stay still and pray not to fall right then and there.

All he could think of was why he was such a coward and did not strike that monster all those years ago.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

The Chancellor’s outfit seemed strange to Noctis, really. A whole bunch of clothes that would never match together in any other case, but on this man in particular they seemed…

Noctis watched as the man bowed slightly again and walked away.

Nice. These clothes somehow seemed nice if it was him wearing them. 

He didn’t know actually where thoughts like these came from nor did he know why the air seemed so tight suddenly. It got better, either way, after a few minutes and Noctis tried really hard to concentrate on things Emperor Iedolas was saying, but failed.

He kept glancing to the side, absentmindedly seeking out a single hat among all these people who gathered at Caelum Via that night. That’s why, when his father and Emperor engaged in a conversation about something Noctis barely paid attention to, he silently slipped away too, without bothering to excuse himself.

Noctis tried not to seem too eager to find the man but quickly spotted him near the table with snacks and approached. He barely thought how it looked to bystanders – it didn’t matter.

When the Chancellor turned his way, undoubtedly hearing his steps, something went off in Noct’s chest. Some sort of pang – harsh, but too quick to stop and press his hand against the spot where it concentrated.

The Chancellor looked at him with more curiosity than surprise, a disarming smile he gave him and his father earlier firmly in place. Noctis had a fleeting thought about his eyes though, because there was something slightly wrong with them, but he couldn’t actually tell for sure and the man was already nodding his head politely at him, anyway.

In that moment it occurred to Noctis he actually had no idea what to talk about now when he found the man at last. Why was he so inclined to find him at all?

“Your Highness,” something warm floated through him, engulfed him and squeezed for a fleeting moment before whooshing away in an invisible flow.

It took him a few seconds to realize that was actually the man’s voice. Noctis never in his life heard a voice like that.

“Uh,” he let out, not too politely and obviously not dignified at all like a man of his position should have sounded.

The Chancellor waited, looking at him with that kindest smile, which seemed as warm as his voice. Suddenly Noctis realized he wanted to hear more. Would this feeling return again or was it just his imagination playing tricks?

“Do you…” he blurted out quickly and paused, because those were only two words that came to his head. Now he was silently fumbling for more, desperate not to make a fool of himself – well, as much as he already did.

The Chancellor’s smile turned a tad amusing, but he still said nothing. In any other case Noctis would have felt offended, but this felt different for some reason. The man’s smile seemed not mocking, but rather amusing in a more positive way as if he thought Noctis’ struggle to form a coherent sentence looked flattering.

To have thoughts like these about a man he knew for like ten seconds was ridiculous and totally strange, that’s why Noctis braced himself, calmed his breathing (when it even quickened?) and formed something decent at last.

“Do you like it here?”

Which, honestly, was not the best question to ask the Imperial Chancellor who, probably, had approximately zero time to get to know the city or a place they were currently in. Noctis brushed that aside, though – his face was scrunched up in frown already, from all that fumbling for proper words when he actually could have spared himself time and, for example, greet the man again. Which wasn’t too wise to do, either.

“Quite much,” the man replied nonetheless, completely unbothered by the whole thing Noctis was silently cursing himself for. “The city is marvelous, indeed,” he glanced to the side, watching the spectacular view which lay before them.

His voice sent a small shivers down Noctis spine, which made absolutely no sense, but didn’t alarm him at all too. They were too quick to really bother him but on the other hand reached deep inside his stomach, placing something small and fluttering there every time that voice sounded.

“Certainly, a place of wonders and magic,” the Chancellor summarized, looking back at Noctis again, his smile soft and pleasant. All traces of previous amusement completely gone.

Noctis wasn’t bothered by them, actually. They suited the man as much as this sweet smile of his did. He felt himself slowly relax, dropping his frown, and thought that maybe he fucked the beginning of conversation not too much if this man was continuing it.

The Chancellor, meanwhile, turned his head towards the city again.

“These sparks of magic, as well, are simply fabulous, I must admit,” he noted, and it took Noctis a whole minute to understand what he was referring too. Then he followed the man’s gaze.

“Oh, fireworks?” he clarified, sparing a brief glance at the biggest one, which lightened up the sky not far from them. “But they’re not magic.”

The Chancellor met his eyes, eyebrows slightly raised, smile even softer than before and the whole picture spoke of confusion from his part, especially when he cocked his head to the side as well.

Noctis felt like something sweet exploded in his mouth, slowly dripping down his stomach – not too luscious or syrupy, but rather warm and nice. Whether it was an invisible candy or just a feeling he didn’t care. He just wanted more.

He felt his own positively amused smirk tugging at his lips and started explaining to the man what fireworks actually were and how they worked. Noticing in the process how the Chancellor’s face lit up in delight while he looked at ‘magic in the air’ again, amazed and enthralled by it.

Fluttering feeling in Noctis stomach intensified with every passing minute. He let out an amused huff when the man assured him he never actually heard about fireworks before and that they never lit up ones in Niflheim at all and how exactly did that ‘fire’ worked – was it real fire or some sort of substitute and where one could buy something this awesome and so on and so forth.

Noctis was smiling an open, full smile less than in few minutes, gladly answering these questions, hearing pleased hums the man made after each and feeling... feeling something he barely felt before. Not as long as he could remember, at least.

The whole celebration thing turned out to be really nice – so nice he didn’t want this night to end at all. Not after they discussed fireworks and the waiter approached them, offering champagne, the man regarded the glasses with fuzzy liquid with the same adorably confused smile. That was how Noctis learned they never drank champagne in Niflheim.

“Are there any alcohol at all?” he snorted, watching the Chancellor twirling glass in his fingers. He wore black fingerless gloves, which seemed made from leather or something of sort, considering whether customary tissues where produced in Niflheim or they had something entirely else.

“Of course,” Chancellor Izunia assured him with a shrug and ever-present smile. “We’re more partial to wine. Do you have one in Insomnia too?” he perked up a bit with new question and Noctis was all to happy to assure him that yes, of course they drank wine as well, maybe just not the same Niflheim produced and did actually Niflheim produce wine at all?

That earned him a slightly sheepish smile and a helpless shrug, when the man stated that these matters never actually concerned him, but now he would definitely ask Imperial’s retainers about country’s alcohol production.

Noctis laughed at that, surprising even himself – when was the last time he laughed like that, even with Prompto? He couldn’t come up with exact date but now, here, it felt natural to do so, standing near this strange yet charming man, keeping that silly but funny conversation, watch fireworks play in their glasses and reflecting in the man’s eyes.

Something was about his eyes Noctis couldn’t still grasp aside from their color, of course. They were golden which Noctis, honestly, never seen before but he never met people from Niflheim until this evening either. Maybe it was common eye color amongst them.

As well as the color of his hair – purplish red slightly ruffled but it suited the man nonetheless. He wondered absentmindedly that it would suit him even it was long. Was his hair longer once? Maybe he should ask, considering such non-political topic they were breaching already, but Noctis thought against it in the end. It was too personal to ask someone, not to mention the Imperial Chancellor. Judging by Emperor’s words, the man was in fact the second in command of the whole Empire and should something happen to the Aldercapt it would leave Chancellor Izunia in position of a new Emperor.

Noctis had a fleeting thought the man would look well on a throne. He almost felt like saying it out loud but when his lips parted it was someone else who spoke.

“Excuse me,” when they both turned, Noctis saw Ignis, head in a respectful bow, hands pressed to his body on both sides, eyes downcast. “Your Highness, King Regis is looking for you.”

Noctis’ first attempt was to tell Ignis to assure his father that he’s busy right now but he thought again and let out a small sigh. Unfortunately it seemed their conversation needed to end, which he told the Chancellor, glancing back at him.

“It was a pleasure being engaged in one with you,” the man pressed hand to his heart, his smile somehow turning even sweeter than before and fluttering feeling in Noctis’ stomach nearly burst out of him.

“I…” he stammered, trying to make his voice a bit more confident, but it still had a strange wavering tone to it. “I hope we’ll have one more meeting very soon.”

The Chancellor’s answering smile made that sweet feeling inside him spread to his every bone, coating them in warmth, making the night sky above lit up in fireworks even after they actually stopped.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

Of course his father strongly advised him against talking to Chancellor ever again. There was strange tone to his voice, when he mentioned the man in question. Noctis wanted to ask what was the case, given the fact that Regis barely met the Chancellor at all – they exchanged only brief formalities, nothing more, but Regis was quick to close the topic.

Of course, later that day, despite all warnings, Noctis found himself at the top floors of Caelum Via Hotels again, where the whole delegation of Niflheim currently resided. Ignis, obviously, came with him, because Noctis’ whole idea of coming here in the first place was just a courtesy visit and occasional check whether their esteemed guests needed something.

Why would anything else bring him here, after all?

He expected to be met by one of Emperor’s retainers, whom he would ask whether everything was to His Majesty’s taste, but at top floor’s grand hall were only two people that morning. The Chancellor, in his yesterday’s suit with exception of hat, though, and another man, clad in white and armor with heavy sword at his side. His hair was so light in color that it seemed almost white too.

They both were engaged in some kind of conversation when Noctis’s arrival interrupted it. But when the Chancellor’s face lit up with a smile (which, actually, he was wearing already, even while talking to that man) the second man’s face stayed impassive, aside from some brief emotion that flickered in his eyes, when he spotted Noctis.

Then, before Noctis was able to say his greetings, the man slightly inclined his head to Chancellor and walked away, disappearing around the corner. Noctis blinked in confusion, but the Chancellor beat him to it twirling his hand in the air.

“Good morning, Your Highness, fancy seeing you here.”

He was smiling as pleasantly as the night before and, if Noctis hadn’t know better, he’d thought the Imperial Chancellor was actually glad meeting him again. That sent another pang of _something_ through him, and just like the night before he couldn’t understand what, aside that it was warm.

Warm and slightly familiar. He felt something like that once. Maybe with his father or Luna.

Anyway, he smiled in return.

“Good morning to you too, Chancellor. I’m sorry if my sudden appearance intervened your plans.”

“Ah, not at all,” the man cocked his head to the side, waving his hand slightly. “I’m sure High Commander Nox Fleuret won’t mind too much, given that we’ll resume our talk a bit later.”

It took Noctis a second to understand that familiar name he heard wasn’t just a slip. He quickly glanced back, but of course the man in question was nowhere in sight already.

“I’m sorry, did you say Nox Fleuret?” he clarified for no reason because he heard the Chancellor quite perfectly.

Something in the man’s smile changed a bit – slight curl at the corners of his lips, which Noctis couldn’t quite decipher, but the silky smooth voice stayed the same – overly polite, warm and velvety.

“I believe you’ve met His Highness Ravus Nox Fleuret before? I’ve been told you spent some time in Tenebrae as a child.”

Noctis nodded automatically; tons of questions on the tip of his tongue. He wanted to ask about Tenebrae, about Luna, was she okay, why didn’t she contact him even once all these years. Why Ravus was a High Commander now – wasn’t he a Prince? And High Commander of which forces? Did Niflheim offered him that high rank after Tenebrae became part of the Empire?

What happened during these years he heard nothing from him and Luna?

Maybe something showed on his face because Chancellor’s smile turned thoughtful and voice lowered to a soothing sort of whisper. As if he sensed Noctis’ distress and decided to make it easy for him.

“I think you have a lot of questions concerning the matter, Your Highness. Allow me to give you some proper answers, though be aware that not everything can be speaking openly.”

Just like that they moved towards top floor’s parlor where Noctis finally remembered he had an attendant, introducing Ignis properly. The Chancellor regarded the man with a smile, Ignis, in turn, called him ‘Chancellor’ and ‘Your Excellency’, excusing himself after that (Noctis guessed he’d wait for him at hotel’s hall, maybe).

Soon, after Ignis left, the Chancellor confirmed his suspicions assuring that Ravus Nox Fleuret was indeed given one of the highest ranks in Empire’s hierarchy, which he accepted with dignity appropriate to his position and background.

Even though Noctis gave a nod at that, the frown must have appeared on his forehead nevertheless, because the Chancellor’s smile suddenly turned a tad lenient.

“Rest assured Your Highness, no one forced High Commander Nox Fleuret to do something against his will.”

Noctis narrowed his eyes at him. Somehow, despite knowing this man less than a day, he still felt he could speak openly. That was one of the main cases for a whole peace treaty after all – for two countries to drop their previous dispute and have honest and open relations with each other from now on. At least to some extent.

“It’s not like he had much of a choice though,” he affirmed as evenly as possible.

The Chancellor raised his brows, suddenly seeming positively impressed to receive something besides plain and silly formalities from him. An interest showed on his face, turning his smile into something slightly crooked again.

“And why would he find himself in such,” he gave a pause as if searching for a proper word, but this time Noctis saw it just as an act, “inextricable situation?”

Yes, the man clearly decided to play some game of words and hints with him. Noctis felt sudden elation to have one. If Chancellor wanted to try and beat him on this ground – well, Noctis would like to see him try.

“Don’t you think he had no choice at all after Empire got control over Tenebrae?” he relaxed his body, getting comfortable in a plush cream-colored chair. In fact, the whole thing wasn’t too comfy for his spine – too soft and grand. He always preferred something more stiffly.

Judging by the way Chancellor sat as if the chair was adjusting to his body and not the other way around he had no such problems. Noctis wondered whether the man felt any sort of discomfort by anything because it really seemed sometimes that the whole world tried to adjust to him.

The man in question slightly tapped his fingers against his chin, cocking his head to the side.

“If I’m not mistaken, Empire saved Tenebrae when the country was on a verge of ruin and helped it regain its former splendor in subsequent years.”

“ _As_ a part of Empire,” Noctis pointed out with arms crossed.

“And what a splendid union it created,” the Chancellor, totally unbothered by not so subtle hint, lit up with delighted smile. It casted his face in some sort of inner glow but not reached his eyes at all. “Now Tenebrae will have ultimate protection against any probable inconveniences.”

While Noct could only widen his eyes and furrow his brows after such blunt hint that Tenebrae actually was lucky to have Empire consume it (honestly, this man started mocking him or was he really serious?) the Chancellor, it seemed, wasn’t done.

“Also this is what out countries are expected to do tomorrow morning,” he propped his hand on chair’s armrest and leaned his cheek on a fist, waiting for Noct’s answer. 

A thought that this strange and definitely _insufferable_ man was probably _intrigued_ by something Noctis might say was… thrilling. Yes, just like that.

“It’s a peace treaty,” he corrected stonily, stressing his point but his own lips formed a smile too. He hoped it was crooked as well. “I hope the Emperor and his _advisors_ ,” definitely not a subtle hint, “remember that Insomnia is an independent territory and will remain so just like our agreement states.”

He felt he gave right answer because the Chancellor said nothing but his smile – oh, it was telling a lot. Jaunty pleasant and smug – yes, _exactly_ smug as if the man had a time of his life during these minutes of ‘political banter’ with someone he found smart enough to spend that sunny morning.

“Fair enough,” he intoned at last – Noctis had a distinct thought the man might have even clasped his hands in delight but he remained in the same position, with cheek propped on his hand and whole body relaxed. “And yet… I couldn’t help but wonder. Why Lucis agreed to transfer his territories outside Insomnia to Niflheim? Don’t get me wrong, it’s not a trick question. I’m just simply being curious.”

“You gave us no choice,” Noctis replied flatly, but that only made Ardyn raise a brow at him.

“Niflheim is technologically superior and more advanced than most nations of the world, including Lucis, indeed. And yet you have magic – powerful magic to protect your territories.”

That made Noctis think about rumors the Council was discussing recently. About Niflheim developing new weapons, which were able to neutralize Lucian magic. His father’s magic as well as his own. 

He thought about the way this magic drained his father’s life-force with every passing day, making him unable to protect their lands except Insomnia. It was one of numerous reasons’ to make a decision his father finally made. As father said in conclusion, ‘a tough but necessary call’.

“There are things no magic can stop,” he chose to say impassively. Then flashed a quick grin. “But who knows. Maybe in a few years the potion will tip the scales in our favour and then it will be Niflheim surrending its territory.”

Chancellor tilted his head to the side, cheek rubbing slightly over his fist. He seemed amused and intrigued by Noctis’ answer but only nodded in response without giving his own verson of probable future events.

Noctis leaned back in his chair, arms and legs crossed, and cocked his own head to the side – whole body language asking ‘Now what?’. The Chancellor looked back, smile disarmingly innocent – definite answer ‘I have no idea. You?’. Noctis barely suppressed a snort – insufferable indeed.

“Such interesting conversation we have here indeed,” the man said finally, changing his position and propping his chin in open palm this time. Noctis felt another pang coursing through his whole body but different from the one before.

It felt like a jolt of electricity, which brought no pain at all – only shivers. Something was starting here but he couldn’t–

“Still, no matter how fascinating this whole talk is I doubt it’s the main reason that brought you here in the first place, Your Highness,” the Chancellor blinked at him in obvious interest, but Noctis had a suspicion it was slightly faked. “So tell me to what do I owe a pleasure of seeing you again?”

Probably the question was meant to be casual, but what came out was a velvety purr that sent another round of shivers down Noct’s spine. Why was this man so smooth, for gods’ sake? Simple minutes of useless conversation and he was already throwing Noctis off balance. Was it deliberate? Noctis wanted to smack himself because of course it should have been deliberate, the man was probably made to be on the water in political games but some part of him objected to that. Some tiny part kept telling that no way someone could fake that sweet smile, that ingenious delight with which Chancellor looked at fireworks the night before…

Maybe Noctis was stupid to talk to this man the previous night – to come here today as well but he couldn’t blame himself for a smile that threatened to break free on his face whether he looked at Chancellor of freaking Niflheim.

As if he was a long lost friend he had a chance to meet again.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

It appeared the Chancellor was overly pleased with knowledge that Noctis took his time to be worried about whether Empire’s guests felt comfortable staying at Caelum Via. He was all to happy to assure him that yes, of course everything was totally to Emperor’s and his retainer’s tastes and should they need something else they would definitely contact Lucian Royal management but all was totally fine so far.

Noctis found himself genuinely relieved to hear that despite secretly being not too concerned about whether Emperor in particular felt comfortable enough staying here. He doubted that, which was fine with him as well. He came here out of courtesy, nothing more and maybe to ensure that their guests stayed in one place with no intentions to sneak into the city, meeting probable spies (were there ones here in Lucis?) or plotting other evil plans.

It seemed he played too many video-games with Prompto to try and built conspiracy theories now.

He looked to the window, which gave a spectacular view of Insomnia, bathed in bright morning light. Honestly, the whole idea of having small walk across town wasn’t bad. Maybe their guests thought that way too – he remembered Emperor’s previous words that their city was beautiful indeed and that there was nothing like that at Niflheim. Were their cities gloomy enough for them to be fascinated by something as grand as Insomnia?

Maybe he could… organize some city tour for them? Small one, not too far from their current residence, with proper escort, of course. But no, what would his father say about it? Definitely not something pleasant, considering the fact that he was against Noctis having any new conversation with the man he currently had one. No tour, then. Still, the idea was a good one.

Maybe there was a way still?

Chancellor’s smile turned slightly surprised, when Noctis suggested they came to rooftop of Caelum Via again, but voiced no protest, following him to an elevator. The rooftop’s restaurant was mostly empty aside from staff and security guards near the entrance. They gave no questions, bowing silently to Noctis and his companion and stepped aside.

“There will be no fireworks this time,” Noctis jokingly warned when they took the stairs up to rotunda. “They are mostly invisible during the day.”

“That’s a shame,” the Chancellor drawled in the same joking tone, looking at Noctis with another crooked smile and tearing a snort out of him. “I doubt there will be something as grandiose as them to pick my interest now.”

“Just wait for it,” Noctis smirked and motioned with his hands around. “I doubt you ever saw something as grand as this.”

The Chancellor took his time looking around the city in daylight, slightly cocking his head or turning it in different directions. His interest was piqued surely but not in the way Noctis was expecting. The man didn’t look awe-struck or at least impressed enough for his face to show it openly. Maybe he had time to admire it the day before? But it was mostly dark, no matter the lights on skyscrapers’ roofs and surely further parts of the city were obscured by the blackness. 

So why wasn’t he impressed now when the whole city lay on a plate before them?

“Forgive my words but I feel slightly pressured, Your Highness,” the Chancellor spoke out of the blue. He squinted at Noctis with interest. “Were you anticipating some other reaction from me?”

Noctis had to blink a few times – was this man a telepath, for gods’ sakes? Or was Noctis himself this obvious? Anyway, he was saved from any answers when the man twirled his hand in the air light-heartedly, his smile bright and dazzling.

“Oh, but please never mind. I’ve been told not once that my reactions sometimes not the ones people usually expect from me. It seems it happened right now as well.”

He moved his hand in a loose circle, taking in a view of Insomnia again.

“Truly spectacular, I must admit. Thank you for kindly showing me this wonderful city in broad daylight. I can only hope now of having an opportunity to return the favor.”

Noctis, arms over his chest, raised his brow questioningly. Surely, the man referred to something. Some sort of invitation?

“I believe I’ll respond in kind when you visit Gralea,” the Chancellor clarified, already quite elated with the prospect, judging by his smile.

Noctis for his part never had even a slightest consideration to travel as far as Niflheim’s capital but could admit he wasn’t against the thought either. But looking at Chancellor’s happy yet smug face he definitely wanted to show some stubbornness.

“Unless I visit it at all,” he debated with raised brow.

“Of course the choice is yours to make,” the Chancellor assured, waving his hand nonchalantly. His whole posture spoke volumes of how jovially amiable he felt. Noctis contemplated whether the man was capable of feeling even bits of offence to anything in particular; it seemed he was totally made of rubber.

Noctis had two words in mind which could describe the man before him. ‘Amusing’ was the first… and the safest one.

“But I can’t help wondering…” the man tilted his head to the side. “Won’t you have any reason to come there?”

Simple words, simple question and from the way the man’s smile was open it had no double meaning but Noctis felt those shivers up his spine again. He doubted the Chancellor meant something over the fact that starting from next day Gralea would be opened for any Lucian citizen to come and visit and yet…

This question awoke that second word Noctis didn’t want to think about. Because it was too stupid to think that word while looking at the man he barely knew.

The Chancellor’s question, it seemed, was rhetoric because he started watching city again with disarmingly light smile as if oblivious to the fact that Noctis was out of words. Noct was glad the man didn’t try to ask more, was glad that he turned away. It was the easiest way to calm himself enough to push that word in the back of his mind.

‘Enamoring’ wasn’t a proper word to describe an Empire’s highest-ranking official whom he knew less than a day. Even if he had a distinct feeling they knew each other for a long time.


	18. Chapter 18

That night the Lucii came to Regis again. They never showed after the day he learned devastating truth about his son’s fate, nor did they spoke to him after Cartanica. Even Mystic remained silent – probably seeing Regis as unworthy of his attention.

He certainly changed his mind, judging by the way his voice sounded this time. Ruthless, merciless words – a rumbling echo coming out of his grand armor, piercing Regis’ head with unrelenting force.

Regis didn’t need the Founder’s rebuke to understand what a fool he was himself. The Prophecy, one would say, was already firing on all cylinders. The monster came back – came back right here and saw its prey. Regis shuddered when the creature’s smile appeared in his mind so vividly as if it was standing in his room in the flesh.

The smile he never thought it would be capable to form, judging by the state Regis saw it in the last time. The monster was miserable, shaking like a leaf, flinching at every move and sound – pitiful creature Regis couldn’t for the life of him felt sorry for after he learned the truth.

And, of course, he was right that everything was a trick right from the beginning. The monster twisted them round its claw, undoubtedly elated how everyone was making a fuss over it, protecting, buying clothes, entertaining…

Regis scraped his teeth together till they hurt – he was no better if fell in this trap so easily. If let his stupid conscience get an upper hand and spare the creature’s life. Even if he expected it not to live out too long. Yes, leaving it in Cartanica was only partially mercifulness, because Regis knew the monster won’t be able to get out of there alive. It couldn’t speak, feared any human being aside Noctis, didn’t know how to eat, had no place to stay – Regis doubted someone in a dying city was generous enough to help an abandoned wanderer with obvious mental problems. Despite Regis’ previous thoughts about the monster being conscious enough to play the role of poor homeless person, he had a suspicion its physical appearance wasn’t a trick. 

Maybe the monster’s mind worked pretty clear, but he doubted it would fake its physical disability that long. The creature, as blood-thirsty (as Lucii assured him) as it was, would have snapped long ago. That confirmed his guesses (and Mystic’s words) that it was still weak physically to make a move against his son. It couldn’t speak or move properly indeed, had no money and no access to its magic (otherwise it would have used it on them already). Its physical body was doomed indeed with no help of bystanders. Maybe even its conscience wasn’t active all the time – probably the monster still had a hard time to concentrate, and quickly tired itself, falling back in that half-catatonic state it showed them.

Regis considered everything meticulously, watched the creature’s every move during their trip, and came to conclusion that his suspicions were right. The monster wasn’t ‘active’ all the time. Mostly it was just a mindless, helpless creature that accumulated its strength very slowly. That opened a perfect opportunity to end its life for good. Yet Regis failed, choosing not to dirty his own hand.

Yes, he might have spared the monster from being impaled by his Armiger, but he was sure it would have been dead in a matter of weeks. Not too cruel way to get rid of something that threatened his family with its mere presence.

So how, how by the Six, it survived? And it was still half of a problem, considering it not just survived. How, by the gods, it became something it was now? How it managed to gather up enough power to break its pathetic state so fast? Or was it another matter?

Was it Noctis’ mere presence that prevented monster from getting back to its true self? Did it not know at what paradoxical situation it placed itself? Maybe bloody instincts drove it towards Noctis, and that’s were its undoing lay. His son’s light was strong enough to block the monster’s power, but it, on the other hand, was too thirsty for consuming this light to get away from Noctis, lick its wounds and recover enough to return in all its ugliest glory.

It was caught in its own trap and Regis couldn’t help but feel twisted satisfaction from that fact. That quickly faded away, when he remembered that it was his stupid choice that let the creature stay away from Noctis for sufficient amount of time to get back to its former state. Only the Six knew what it was capable of now.

_Imperial Chancellor Ardyn Izunia_. 

Regis rolled the name on the tip of his tongue, fighting an urge to spit. It left a foul taste in his mouth, even if an imaginary one. He doubted it was the monster’s real name, but probably it decided against naming itself ‘ _Adagium_ ’ publicly. Regis whished it wouldn’t – this sick version of ‘name’ suited it quite well.

He anxiously rubbed his face with both hands, remembering what Mystic told him mere minutes ago. With the Prophecy in full circle already – it was time to make a move. Quick and ruthless one.

So he turned back to the man who kneeled before him this whole time, still and silent as a statue. Only one person beside Noctis and Clarus whom Regis was trusting with his life. The man was one of the Glaives, and honestly no one to Regis at all, but it was a feeling – a deep-rooted one – that this man wouldn’t let him down. After all it was Regis’ own magic which flowed inside the man’s veins.

“I have a task for you,” he began, stepping closer. “The fate of many would depend on how you carry this task. Can I trust it in your hands?”

The man lifted his head and for a brief second Regis thought he looked into mirror. Not in the sense of physical appearance – they were not alike at all – but in something invisible, something deep and strong that made the same magic in them twirl in a matching flow.

“I’m ready for anything, Your Majesty,” Nyx Ulric, the Kingsglaive, assured and Regis felt a smile tugging at his lips.

He had a feeling he made a right choice.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

The Royal Meeting Chamber was already full of people when Regis entered. He went straight towards two thrones in the far end of a Chamber – one of them was occupied by Aldercapt. When Regis appeared, Emperor stood up together with everyone else. Regis’ face stayed absolutely impassive, while he joined his former opponent.

Noctis was sitting in the first chair on the left, a Royal Lucian Counsil right beside him, all clad in black with golden embodiments. The Chancellor sat on the right, directly across from Noctis, with other Niflheim delegates beside him as well. The man didn’t even bother to change his clothes to something more appropriate, but at least took off his hat. Regis refrained from glaring daggers at him, but he doubted the man would notice it either way. He was looking at Lucian part of the Chamber with peaceful smile (well, as much as Regis could see from the man’s profile), whole pose relaxed – one would have said he was totally unbothered by the breaking point in two kingdom’s relations, which was about to happen in mere minutes.

“Forgive my delay,” Regis knew his voice spoke of no forgiveness at all and the corner of Aldercapt’s mouth twitched in a hint of a smirk. “An urgent matter that needed to be dealt with immediately.”

“I see,” the Emperor drawled. “But everything’s solved now?”

Regis spared him a glance.

“It will be,” voice impassive, face calm yet those three words weighed a lot.

If it arose some suspicions in Aldercapt, he concealed it well – no muscle twitch, no eyes narrowing, nothing. A paragon of royal composure, but Regis was showing it quite well too.

“Nothing too vexing I hope,” Aldercapt added unperturbedly, turning his gaze towards the whole room again.

Regis looked at it too, eyes landing suddenly on the farthest chair among Niflheim delegation, which their High Commander currently occupied. Ravus Nox Fleuret, unsmiling boy he was all those years ago, kind-hearted yet strong. He barely spared Regis a second glance when Niflheim arrived, and no words were spoken. Regis couldn’t blame him; he guessed that boy was long gone – since the day his mother died, protecting him and his sister.

He wished he was brave enough to neglect Niflheim’s unofficial embargo, arrive to Tenebrae and take Luna and Ravus with him to Insomnia. He didn’t, and all relations he had with them was gone, judging by the way Commander’s face darkened when he saw him again after all these years.

Whether Ravus blamed Lucis that they didn’t come to rescue when Tenebrae needed them the most was a mystery, yet deep down Regis knew his guess was right. He could only hope his next moves won’t turn Ravus against him and Lucis even more.

“Just a simple theft, nothing more,” he countered calmly. He could let Aldercapt have his suspicions whether he wanted. The man would never guess the true meaning of these words. By now, at least. “It’s settled already.”

“Well, that’s good to hear,” the Emperor observed in a slightly smarmy tone, but spared Regis no second glance.

Then they both got up, moving towards the table, where a peace treaty lay already. Aldercapt, Regis noticed, was adapting to his uneven gait – they moved almost foot to foot. He felt a distinct feeling it was intentional, even mocking, but the Emperor’s face betrayed nothing.

Regis felt a gnawing need to return the ‘ _favor_ ’.

“Tell me,” he began in a deceptively calm tone, “how heavy a sentence doest the crime of theft carry in your Empire?”

“Among the heaviest,” Aldercapt admitted right away, smile dropping, as if to articulate the heaviness of said sentence. “Although there is one exception,” he raised a finger. “A curious old law I still permit in the outlands. A thief who escapes his captor can no longer be held to account for his crime.”

That made Regis look at him again. His own smile dropped too.

“A warning to the victim?” he suggested coolly.

“Oh, no,” Aldercapt turned to him this time, a crooked half-grin on his face. “It’s a warning to the hand of justice itself. Never to loose its grip.”

Two large black folders were now opened before them and Aldercapt was the one to take a pen and sign snow-white paper. Regis followed him in mere seconds, and just like that the treaty situation was settled.

He let his smile stay proper when they shook hands after that – he couldn’t let it became broader, no matter how he wanted. Inside he hoped Aldercapt would remember this small conversation when a few days from now they would learn that Princess Lunafreya was abducted from her native home by the hands of stranger. A stranger, who, as Regis was perfectly aware of, despite having a powerful magic on his side, was capable of warping and escaping any possible captors together with his precious prize.

Oh, he wished he would be able to see a look on Aldercapt’s face, when that would be the exact warning to Empire’s hand of justice never to loose her grip again. Or rather, never to abduct a peaceful territory and call it ‘ _help_ ’.

The Empire got what was coming to it – what it deserved – and Regis’ smile was never as honest as in that exact moment of standing before his former enemy. Then they turned towards their men and Regis saw a slight relief on his son’s face. He wanted to smile at him as well, but his gaze inadvertently slipped to the Chancellor.

The man wasn’t looking at anyone in particular, gaze slightly down. His face, though, wore a smile – a playful kind of a smile that one would find simple but Regis – Regis saw what it was.

The Chancellor was smiling like he knew some secret and it put him in high spirits. Regis didn’t need to meet his gaze to understand it and feel a sudden weight in his stomach.

Very much like a dread.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

“Well, what a splendid turn of events,” Aldercapt remarked, when the Chamber mostly cleared. He still was walking in sync with Regis.

“In the evening there will be another celebration here, in Citadel,” Regis reminded, when they were walking through marble corridor, heading towards the exit where the cars would took Emperor and his men back to Caelum Via.

Aldercapt nodded, even though they both knew it was a prior arrangement. They stopped near the hall, Noctis and Clarus as silent shadows beside Regis, and Chancellor with another two men near Emperor. One of them carried a small white box with some pattern Regis couldn’t decipher.

When his gaze landed briefly on a said box, the Chancellor suddenly started speaking.

“Oh, how could I have forgotten?” he twirled his hand in the air with sincerely bashful smile. Regis didn’t believe it one second but raised his brow with a look on his own face as polite as possible.

The man with the box stepped forward and bowed, offering it to no one but Noctis on extended hands. The Prince blinked, while the Chancellor continued.

“There’s a small present to His Highness from Lady Lunafreya, as a form of apologize that she was unable to join her brother, High Commander Nox Fleuret, during this visit,” his smile was dazzlingly amiable and made Regis clench his teeth.

Noctis lit up at mention of Lunafreya, and took a box with generous ‘ _thank you_ ’. The Chancellor, it seemed, still had another thing to say.

“I believe she mentioned that Your Highness has some sort of ‘ _sweet tooth_ ’, so she hoped this small present will be totally to your liking.”

Just like that Noctis opened the box and all of them saw its contents. There were sweets – Tenebraen pastries of light-yellow color with something red on top (some sort of cherry, maybe), each packed in a transparent envelope, protecting it from damaging.

Noctis face split into genuine smile and he thanked the Chancellor again. Regis, on the other hand, couldn’t do the same. He barely felt his own death grip on a cane, barely heard his son’s gratefulness towards someone that didn’t deserve it at all.

Most of all he felt sick.

_Noctis likes sweets_ , echoed in his brain in his own tight voice. He remembered each and every word, as if he spoke them only yesterday. He remembered what happened after them. And now he knew he wasn’t the only one.

When Emperor turned to walk away eventually with a clear sign for his men to follow, Regis caught the monster’s gaze and poured every ounce of hate through his eyes, wishing in a futile hope that looks indeed could kill.

Adagium’s smile remained the same – courteously charming, with no hint of something else. He touched the brim of his hat, head slightly inclining towards Regis and his son, and followed his Emperor towards the brightly lit exit.

His gait was smooth and fluent – totally opposite of the one he had before.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

That same day, a few hours before the peace treaty celebration, Regis had a talk with his son he rather would have never had at all. Yet, with how events progressed, he had no choice. Still, he let himself hope that things would turn out differently in the end, if Noctis gathered up enough power to end the creature’s ugly existence without giving his own life in the process.

Regis could only hope for better now. That was everything he was capable of.

To say Noctis was stunned by this talk was underestimation. Regis saw how deeply the fact that he had to depart on a journey upon which the world’s fate depended affected him. Saw the hesitation, the doubt in his eyes. He would have felt those ones too, if it was him in Noctis’ place. He would gladly switch places with his son, but couldn’t.

He wasn’t a Chosen One. A King of Light, King of Kings to save them all.

He hated to use those titles on his son. He hated he had to take away his carefree life, his very youth, from him. He hated the thought that they might never see each other again, if things would go wrong.

Regis could only hope they won’t.

There was still one thing left unsaid, though – the Chancellor’s true nature. Regis was torn between desire to tell Noctis who the real enemy was, and rational doubt whether it was good idea or a really bad one. Some part of him feared Noctis might snap accidentally, after learning the truth, and confront the Chancellor and that… that would reveal another ugly truth Regis buried all those years ago.

That Noctis hadn’t remembered the man he spent so much time with. Of course, Noctis was only five at that time and his brain was still developing, trying to absorb a worldly amount of information at once. On the other hand he was deeply affected by the man – so much that their separation nearly broke him.

Regis had no choice but to allow doctors prescribe a heavy amount of medicine. Simply put, drugs. Every specialist, which examined his son, arrived at conclusion that the Prince needed the strongest medicine to help him survive the state he placed himself in. Of course, Regis thoroughly checked each and every drug in those prescriptions.

They depressed his central nervous system, affected his brain, exhausted him, but at the same time helped too. If it could have been called ‘ _help_ ’ at all, of course, because every thing that healed him was at the same time the hand that steeled. Of course, it was little wonder his brain decided to shut down every memory of a man, because it brought only agony. With added help of drugs, Noctis remembered his own childhood only vaguely. And as much as it pained Regis, he couldn’t help but to feel relieved too.

Still, he knew the time would come when Noctis would face the monster eventually. He hoped no recognition would cross his son’s face in a moment of a final blow.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

The celebration was in full swing, but Noctis felt out of place. He couldn’t help thinking about everything his father told him few hours ago. Everything that needed to be started already. 

Would his life turn on its head? Yes. He had no choice than to accept his new duty and dedicate himself to it completely. Maybe that was the true meaning of his whole life. Maybe that was the main case he was born. Even if something inside him twisted, creating a feeble whisper–

_It’s not like that_.

A shiver crept up his spine, as if someone said those words right in his ear. Noctis shuddered and whirled around – only to meet a curious smile on familiar face.

The Chancellor stood right behind him at polite distance, golden eyes catching the light of numerous lamps around the hall. Noctis, not for the first time, had a feeling something was wrong with the man’s stare. But the Chancellor’s smile distracted him every time he tried to wrap his head about it. Like it did this time as well.

“Am I just seeing things, or His Highness is really not in a celebration mood?” the Chancellor assumed with a courteous, yet crooked smile. 

Noctis couldn’t help but answer with a lopsided grin.

“Just too many thoughts.”

The man hummed knowingly, but didn’t press the matter. Noctis watched how his gaze slowly roamed around the hall, and felt a strange desire to tell him more. To tell him about his future journey, his friends that would accompany him due to his father’s wish (not like Noctis was against it). To tell him–

It was ridiculous – to tell these private things to someone who just a few days ago was still technically his enemy. Even if Noctis couldn’t think of him that way at all, which was kind of absurd too, because they hardly knew each other.

_It’s not like that at all_.

He shook his head, but the whispers faded away already. He was just thrilled about the journey and hearing things. Just nerves, nothing more.

Noctis glanced at Chancellor. Should they end this not-conversation? Maybe it would be wise to wish the man a safe trip back towards Gralea and excuse himself out of this celebration for good. Yeah, Noctis definitely wished to be somewhere else right now.

“Sweets,” he said instead of everything he should have, and Chancellor cocked his head to the side, looking at him curiously. It was evident in his smile and in the whole expression on his face. But his eyes remained strange. Noctis wanted to understand what was missing, but he just couldn’t openly stare in someone else’s eyes for so long.

Right?

“Uh, the sweets Luna… Princess Lunafreya gave me. They were really good, thank you for delivering them,” he explained, and the Chancellor’s answering smile was soft and dazzling.

“Anytime, Your Highness,” he tipped his hat, golden eyes gleaming from under its brim. “I shall definitely convey your gratitude to princess Lunafreya when I see her again.”

Noctis knew that won’t be soon. Maybe Luna was on her way out of Tenebrae already, ‘ _abducted_ ’ by none other than Nyx Ulric – their loyal Kingsglaive – under Kings’ command. A secret plan to move her to Altissia, where she and Noctis would meet soon.

Noctis hated Empire for what they did to Tenebrae, considering his father suspicions that the daemons’ attack was probably their pre-planned campaign all along, but strangely he felt no enmity towards the Chancellor. Maybe he was one of those guys that had that weird light around him; maybe it was because he was just so smooth in everything, or maybe the case was different, but Noctis couldn’t treat him cautiously even if he wanted to.

He didn’t want to.

“Thank you,” he nodded at last. “I hope you’ll have a safe trip tomorrow.”

The Chancellor’s smile turned grateful.

“Thank you, Your Highness. I wish your own trip, whenever you’ll have one, will be safe and successful as well.”

With that and a smile which turned a tad quirky, he bowed once again and left, joining his Emperor’s side. They exchanged no more words till the end of an evening.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

Next morning Niflheim delegation departed from Lucian territory, heading towards Gralea. That same morning Prince Noctis bowed at his father at the steps of Royal Throne and left Insomnia together with three men escorting him.

Later that day the staff cleaned Prince’s room in their regular daily task. One maid, doing the bed, noticed one pillow was missing, but quick search across the room was unavailing. After a while she replaced the missing piece with a new one, soft and clean, and came back to her duty.

There were still so many rooms to clean after all and it was just a pillow, nothing more.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

Emperor Aldercapt talked to his retainers, looking through the most urgent tasks that needed to be done upon his return. He paid no second glance towards his Imperial Chancellor at the moment, but even if he did, he wouldn’t have noticed white fluffy thing lying on a seat beside the man’s hip.

It was invisible for everyone but the said man after all. Who was looking out of a viewport, chin on his hand, wistful smile on his face, while fingers of his left hand patted a simple pillow.

In a gesture only two people in the whole world knew.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter of pure fluff I was really excited to write.  
> Hope you'll like it. And thank you everyone for your wonderful feedback!  
> Your kudos and comments are giving me inspiration to proceed!

The trailer in Hammerhead wasn’t big enough for four of them at once, but it was better than nothing, besides Noctis felt like he would collapse on every possible horizontal surface that could have been considered a ‘bed’ and fell asleep immediately. After all tasks Cid, Cindy and Takka dropped on them, he felt dead-tired.

He barely heard Ignis and Gladio talking, hardly noticed Prompto preparing a cot for himself – his head touched a pillow and he was out in a second.

Next day he woke up to the smell of fresh food and Gladio’s satisfied rumble. Appeared the Regalia was ready, specifically checked by Prompto, while he tried to make a good impression on Cindy with his photography skills and ‘obvious charms’. The last part belonged to Gladio, which earned him a light-hearted shove from the reddened friend, and they spent their breakfast laughing and joking together.

Noctis closed his eyes for a moment and raised face towards the morning sun. It felt warm and not too hot like during those hours after Regalia broke. Except for that predicament, events have moved rather smoothly. He guessed the journey won’t be an easy one, but that was fine. All four of them knew how important what laid ahead of them was, and they talked about it not once since the start of their quest, so Noctis felt like they were prepared for everything that might await them in future.

“Hey, Noct, what Lady Lunafreya looks like?” Prompto leaned on passenger’s front seat when they were riding again. Noctis raised a brow at him in a rearview window.

“Like any other girl?” he shrugged, focusing on the road again, but Prompto let out a disappointed groan.

“Dude, how can you even describe someone like that?”

“I believe she’s a young woman by now,” Ignis corrected. Noctis threw him a sideways glance, in time to see how he shooed Prompto away from the back of his seat.

“I suppose,” Noctis nodded, glancing back at the road under Ignis pointed stare.

“You suppose?” Prompto jumped, but judging by the following sound, Gladio made him sit back again. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’ve never met her since that time when I lived in Tenebrae,” he explained simply. That fact never actually bothered him, really. They exchanged e-mails, phone calls and even some real letters with Luna for a long time since then, which was fine with him. Maybe he should have invited her to visit Insomnia – was she expecting him to do it? But she never let him know whether she wanted it or not.

“Oh, you must be excited to meet her again then!” Prompto beamed at him, moving his head between him and Ignis, only to be yanked back by Gladio’s hand.

Noctis just shrugged again, letting the topic drop. He would be definitely glad to meet Luna after all these years, but he couldn’t call it ‘excitement’. Actually, he barely felt something that strong since those times when he was sick and healing in Tenebrae. That was the case of his social distancing from his schoolmates or any people that wished to befriend him (with exception of Prompto, who was just that stubborn). ‘Ice Prince’ nickname didn’t appear out of thin air after all.

Sometimes he wondered what was it like – how Prompto or his father or Gladio and Ignis felt everything? Were their feelings bright and all-consuming? Whether they felt everything at full specter, and were he broken in some way because he didn’t?

Still, he had an indistinct thought he wasn’t like that at the beginning. He _felt_ once, but when and what was the case of these _fullest_ feelings he didn’t know. He had a suspicion it was something from his childhood and it was probably bad, because he got sick. He barely remembered the time before the recovery – everything he knew was that he was sleeping constantly because of the pills doctors prescribed him.

His father never breached the topic and when Noctis tried to ask a few times Regis’ face showed such pain that it clenched his insides. He dropped his questions since then and guessed his father was glad he did, because Regis never showed him that face again. But Noctis never told him it still gnawed him from time to time either.

Every time he tried to remember his life before Tenebrae, he failed. It felt like running straight into a wall. Something blocked his memory – Noctis guessed it was his own consciousness, probably too exhausted by those events, which caused his sickness. It refused to let him relive everything again, and maybe he didn’t want it himself too, if his brain and very soul tried to block those memories.

He couldn’t say he was ‘fine’ with it being like that, but he didn’t want to try and dig deeper either. Probably he was simply afraid of something he might find there.

That night, in another trailer not far from Galdin Quay, Noctis dreamed of Tenebraen garden, but there were no flowers except one. It had a color he knew, but he couldn’t name it, as if something inside blocked the right word.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

Water at Galdin sparkled so brightly in the morning sun that it was painful to watch. Noctis sighed, leaning on the rails. Beside him people chatted, laughed, ate seafood at nice restaurant, while he waited for his friends to return. They needed to check boat departure schedule, but Noctis decided to wait them here.

Only when they were gone, he suddenly felt how hungry he was. Besides, there were warning signs of headache piercing his skull from time to time with blunt needles, but he knew soon they would turn into unrelenting force.

Perfect, that was _just_ what he needed!

Something flickered at the corner of his eyes suddenly, a quick flash of light as if someone tried to reflect a light with something. Noctis glanced to the side and saw another flicker. It was behind the restaurant, near outside rails, and he barely had time to think why his feet started moving when they already brought him there.

There was a person standing near the rails, bathed in bright morning light, which reflected on a simple round thing between his fingers, creating those flickers, which scattered in every direction when the object was moved. But the small round thing hardly interested Noctis at all when there was something else – something his gaze stuck to, as if by undeniable force.

It was the way sun reflected in the person’s hair, creating a shining effect around his head – bright red kissed by the gold. The same gold looked at Noctis when the person turned around, and it was reflecting the same light as the round object in the man’s hand.

There, at Galdin Quay, in the bright morning light, Noctis looked at the Chancellor of Niflheim and wondered whether an all-consuming feeling of ‘happiness’ he felt at the moment was the same for other people – was it what they called ‘you’ll know in your bones’ kind of feeling?

If it was true, he sure wanted to feel everything like that.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

It appeared the Chancellor was truly surprised (which didn’t show on his face, though) to meet him there, but pleased nonetheless. That strange joy left Noctis after a second, making him wonder why it appeared at all – maybe he was just simply happy to meet someone familiar here; but why so strongly?

“Truly amazing turn of events,” Chancellor meanwhile beamed. He was wearing the same clothes he wore in Insomnia, with the exception of his hat. It made his hair stand out in the sun greatly, color almost shining. “So you decided to go on a trip as well?”

“Uh, yeah, something like that,” Noctis scratched the back of his neck, wondering what to say about this ‘journey’, if Chancellor asked. It wasn’t like he could tell him he was on his way towards Luna.

“Ah, nice,” Chancellor’s smile was almost as dazzling as the sun’s rays in the water. He seemed joyful and honestly pleased to meet Noctis again, but maybe he was just like that with everyone? He just seemed so carefree and light-hearted all the time; sometimes Noctis wondered whether he was capable of feeling something else. “Are you travelling alone, Your Highness?”

“No, I’m with friends,” he motioned to the side, as if indicating that his friends were there somewhere. “It would be boring without company.”

“Indeed,” the Chancellor flicked something between his fingers and Noctis saw it was a simple coin. He squinted at it and heard the man’s following chuckle.

“No need to ruin your eyes like that. Here,” he offered a coin in his palm. It appeared to be an Oracle Ascension Coin, with Lunafreya’s profile on one side and flower on the other.

Noctis tried to return it back but the Chancellor shook his head.

“Please, take it, I have plenty of those already,” he assured with cheerful wave and Noctis shrugged, tossing a coin in his pocket. He looked back at the man who regarded him curiously, but had no time to ask him what he was doing there, because his stomach suddenly decided to let out an entirely undignified noise.

The Chancellor’s brows rose in mild surprise and his smile quickly turned apologetic.

“Oh, I’m so sorry; I must be distracting you from dinner maybe.”

“Not at all,” Noctis was glad he could save the face and didn’t blush when his stomach decided to ‘ _talk_ ’. “We just arrived here and still didn’t have dinner.”

“I believe you shall soon remedy this omission,” the man advised with radiant smile. “I’ve been told local cuisine is extraordinary.”

Noctis hoped it was, but, honestly, he would agree even on a simpler one, just to eat something already. Another pang of headache chose this moment to stab his skull again and he winced – it was growing, turning more severe with each minute.

“Would you…” he massaged his temple quickly. “Would you like to join maybe?”

“Oh,” the Chancellor blinked at him in mild surprise. “To have dinner with you?”

“Yeah,” Noctis shrugged, scratching the back of his head again in futile attempt to stop the pain that was undoubtedly coming. “If you want to.”

The man’s answering smile was so radiant that Noctis felt something soft unfolding itself in his stomach, more or less taking hunger away. They moved towards the restaurant then, which fortunately wasn’t full of people at that hour. There were many free tables, but Noctis’ eyes attached to the one on the left near the big lamps. It was wide enough for others to join when they returned.

When they both sat, Noctis glanced to the exit, feeling some sort of déjà vu. It seemed like he already saw the restaurant from this point, which he did of course because he walked in there right that morning. He sighed, shaking his head – maybe headache was messing with his thoughts already.

They were soon greeted by a waiter who helped them choose dishes, because it appeared the Chancellor heard about local cuisine indeed, but never actually tried it. Noctis only raised an unimpressed brow at his slightly sheepish smile, sighed and picked some fish for himself, making sure it will be served _without_ any vegetables.

“Did you know vegetables help person grow up healthy?” Chancellor’s voice sounded insinuating and made Noctis narrow his eyes.

“I hope it’s not some ‘height joke’, really,” he deadpanned, making the man chuckle. It sounded and felt velvety soft, rising shivers up Noct’s spine. And not for the first time.

“I intended no double meaning here, but forgive me if I offended you, Your Highness,” he raised his palms in a sign of defeat, but his smile was definitely playful. Honestly, and not for the first time again, Noct thought the man was insufferable.

Yet he felt so easy around him. Despite him being a Chancellor of Niflheim, Noctis felt like they could drop the formalities with each other. He guessed the man might not be opposed to this idea.

“You can drop the whole ‘Highness’ thing, you know,” he offered, trying to sound casual even though his stomach felt knotted all of sudden. Probably because of hunger. “It’s not like we’re in Insomnia, after all.”

“Is that so?” the Chancellor cocked his head to the side inquiringly. He seemed genuinely intrigued. “What shall I call you then?”

Noctis suppressed the urge to scratch the back of his head again, while glancing to the side. Strangely, but suddenly, it became difficult to look straight at the man’s face so he pretended to look through the menu again.

“You can call me Noctis,” he suggested, wondering why his heart decided to beat a mile per minute. He risked a glance at the man again and saw an interested yet wistful look on his face. The Chancellor propped chin on his hand, regarding him for a long moment, before his lips eventually parted.

“Noctis,” he repeated, and every damn letter of his own name, spoken by that voice, sent a herd of goosebumps through Noct’s whole body. He couldn’t even wonder whether his shudder was clearly visible or not, because his heart decided to prove that ‘a mile per minute’ wasn’t its limit.

He couldn’t explain what exactly shook him so hard, because there was no way to describe how the man’s voice sounded. He simply has no words to do it, could only feel and that… that felt like a knockdown but an amazing one.

“Noctis then,” the man decided airily, shining like a perfectly polished silver dish. He seemed genuinely happy and so childlike all of sudden that Noctis couldn’t help but smile too. The man beamed at him even more brightly in return, then slightly tapped his own lips as if in sudden thought.

“In that case you can call me Ardyn,” he suggested, placing palm over his heart. Noctis heard his name already, when they were introduced to each other at Caelum Via, but it still felt like for the first time – strangely intimate and easy at the same time. He nodded with a small smile, because it was unexpectedly hard to look at the man’s… _Ardyn’s_ face again.

Thankfully, their food arrived and Noctis could distract himself without seeming rude. He devoured his portion in a matter of minutes while Ardyn barely touched his. He was poking at his dish with a look of naturalist interested in something before him from a scientific perspective.

Noctis couldn’t help but huff a chuckle at that.

“It won’t bite, you know,” he motioned at the food. The Chancellor ( _Ardyn_ , he should remember he was Ardyn now) lifted a fork with a tiny piece on it, looking curiously. At Noctis encouraging, yet amusing nod he took a small bite at last, letting out a wistful hum.

“Not bad, yeah,” Noct grinned waving at the waiter to bring another portion for him. When it appeared, he dealt with it more slowly but still faster than Ardyn, whose plate was still half full.

“It seems seafood is totally not your thing,” Noctis decided, shaking his head with another chuckle when the man pushed his plate away.

“I suppose so,” Ardyn agreed with ironic smile and Noctis wanted to add it was perfectly fine actually, but the man shifted to stand already. “Well, it was a nice dinner I must say,” he flashed another bright smile, “but, unfortunately, I must be going. Hope it won’t be our last meeting during your journey.”

“Yeah,” Noctis, plainly on impulse, stood up too. “I’ll see you later then?” he offered a grin, which Ardyn returned with a small chuckle and flourish bow.

“I’ll wait for it…” he paused, smile turning crooked, before finishing more or less in a purr. “Noctis.”

Just like that, throwing another wave of goosebumps on Noct’s body, he was off. Noctis sat back, looking at his empty plate thoughtfully, when suddenly a headache he had forgotten about crashed back on him, tearing a grunt. He clenched the side of his head, wincing from how powerful the pain suddenly felt, as if it was blocked for some time and then crushed the invisible wall, swiftly attacking his brain.

It was the exact moment his friends finally returned. He tried to mask the pain, but Ignis quickly guessed something was wrong – maybe it showed on Noct’s face or maybe his advisor just knew him too well. They moved him to the hotel, where Noctis collapsed on a bed, burrowing his aching temple in a pillow. It helped, but not much.

By the end of the day it became evident the cause of his headaches wasn’t natural, because he started seeing flashes of _something_. They were too quick to understand what that was, but they brought the same pain with them nonetheless. He clenched his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut, and listened to Ignis’ voice – apparently he was talking to someone on a phone.

When Ignis ended the call, he sat beside Noctis and placed a hand on his shoulder. His eyes shone with worry and sympathy.

“We think we know the cause of your headaches,” his voice sounded reassured enough for Noctis to feel slightly at ease. “But we need to move quickly.”

Then they headed back to Regalia and left Galdin behind.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

Yet the Royal Arm he acquired later didn’t help. It still felt right to get it, to feel it pouring in the flow of his magic as if it belonged there all along, but it didn’t erase his headache, nor lessened it. He glared at Cor half-heartedly when the man conjectured Noctis might need to gather all of the Royal Arms for his headache to stop, which sounded as horrible as it felt.

And yet he took the key Cor gave him. He visited every Royal Tomb since that day, dutifully reclaiming each Royal Arm, making his magic chime every time new was added, but clenching his teeth through severe pain, which proceeded to pierce his skull.

When at last they headed towards Lestallum for a brief rest, Noctis thought he might actually cry. He spent the whole way there in the backseat, teetering on the brink between wakefulness and slumber, accidently bumping the side of his head against Gladio’s shoulder. His Shield every time moved the way that would make Noctis more comfortable and he wanted to tell him how glad he was, but with all that pain words failed him.

He hardly noticed when they arrived at Lestallum’s hotel at last. Someone helped him lay down, covered him with warm blanket and Noctis let himself rest. It was a blessing his head stopped hurting while he was sleeping, but this time the dreams came.

He saw bits and pieces of something enormous, saw flashes of images which were too quick to decipher and suddenly there was his room at Citadel. So vivid as if he was standing in it. There was his bed with someone lying in it. Someone he knew.

Noctis moved closer but the bed moved away. He reached towards it only for his room to disappear, turning into the one in Lestallum. He sat, tugging the blanket tightly around his shoulders, and shuddered so hard that his whole body shook.

It took him a long minute to understand it wasn’t _just_ his body shaking.

His head felt heavy, but strangely the pain faded to a dull throb somewhere in the nape, which disturbed him only a little. He got up, carefully stretching arms over his head, warily waiting for any move to bring pain back, but thanks the Six it didn’t.

Prompto’s loud but slightly panicked voice brought him to the next room.

“Did everyone feel it? Was that an earthquake? Are we gonna die?!”

“Calm down,” Ignis raised his palm. The look on his face told he couldn’t believe Prompto was that dumb to ask these kinds of things. “It was a rather weak one, and from what I heard when we arrived, it’s common here.”

Noctis yawned, joining them, and three pair of eyes immediately landed on him in mixed stares of worry.

“Are you alright?” Ignis was first one to ask, ready to stand, but Noctis shuffled closer and sat on a chair next to him.

“I think so…” he supposed carefully. The urge to touch his head was strong but he refrained. A simple gesture might have triggered the pain again, making his stomach clench. “So, do we have food?”

“I already bought everything for dinner,” his advisor smiled knowingly. “I’ll start preparing right away.”

“Nah, no need to rush, Specs,” Noctis shrugged, glad to use a nickname he gave his advisor years ago. Ignis never commented, but, judging by the lack of complaints, wasn’t opposed either. “I kind of thought to go for a short walk, not too far, just to stretch my legs.”

“Need company?” Prompto winked, only for Ignis to fix him with a stare.

“I thought you were going to search the map for any possible places of Royal Tombs.”

Prompto’s eyes widened and he started scratching his head sheepishly, mumbling that yeah he recalled planning something like that. Gladio let out a huff, crossing arms over his chest, but before he might have suggested coming along too Noctis beat him to it.

“I’ll just wander around for twenty minutes or so, be back soon, don’t worry,” it wasn’t exactly that someone in Lestallum might kidnap him or some shit. Also, no one in the world knew or even dared to guess that Insomnia’s crown Prince decided to have a trip with only three friends, without a huge royal escort and everything.

Well, except someone knew, but Noctis doubted a Chancellor of Niflheim would sent a quick report to his Emperor about some trivial journey.

So, with a promise not to take too long (otherwise Ignis feared the food would get cold), Noctis walked out on the streets. Thankfully, they weren’t too crowded at this hour, and fortunately, as Noctis started his little trek, the ground shook no more too.

He noticed that people around mostly wore light, summer outfits: women preferred crop-shirts and briefs or float dresses in bright green or yellow colors; men picked knee-bridges and T-shirts with rolled up sleeves. Honestly, among that colorful variety of clothes Noct’s black outfit looked boring and dull – not like he minded.

He contemplated taking the left route towards the streets with huge palm trees and large viewing area, but gravitated towards smaller ones first, moving from one spot to another, watching food being prepared on open fire, or a group of musician playing near a small square, or sellers of some goods and souvenirs extolling the quality of their products–

Just like one particular did with obvious vigor, pointing at different types of hats he was currently trying to sell to an interested buyer whom Noctis knew very well. He saw only the Chancellor’s profile, but the smile on his face was evident nonetheless, while he looked through variety of headwear before him. Noctis, while shuffling closer, looked too and found himself unimpressed: all hats seemed tatty and flashy in negative sort of way. If it were him he wouldn’t spent a single gil on something like that, but the Chancellor pointed at one hideous thing already. The seller nearly bounced with excitement, but the look of ingratiation on his face made Noctis frown. When the man announced the price for a piece of total trash he called ‘hat’ Noctis was rendered speechless from such arrogance. Honestly, so much for _that_?! 

To his horror the Chancellor showed no signs that price bothered him and agreed cheerfully, but before he could retrieve his money, Noctis decided to interfere.

“ _There_ you are!” he announced, stepping partially between the man and sly seller, throwing a glance at the latter only to see how he squinted at Noct in displeasure but quickly regained his composure with a fawning smile.

“Oh,” Ardyn blinked at him in delighted surprise, but Noctis barely let him speak more.

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere, come on,” he fixed the seller, who tried to open his mouth for possible complaint, with a hard stare. The man very nearly swallowed his own tongue while Noct grabbed the Chancellor’s forearm, tugging him away from that place.

To Ardyn’s credit, he followed him obediently, but when they stopped a few blocks away, he regarded Noctis with a confused stare. Noctis didn’t give him even a second to try and speak, fixing him with a sharp gaze.

“Honestly, were you really going to buy that thing?”

“But of course,” the Chancellor blinked at him in surprise, shrugging with both hands. “I’ve never actually seen something that well crafted before, and have you noticed that pattern?”

“It was the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen,” Noctis deadpanned, crossing arms over his chest. “Not to mention it was an obvious fraud with how much that trash cost. Don’t tell me you were intending to spend that amount of money on something like that.”

That made Ardyn blink at him again. He tapped his chin with a finger slightly, looked to the side for a moment, then slightly up, as if pondering the right answer, before glancing back at Noctis.

“Yes?”

Noctis barely stifled a groan, raising a brow at him incredulously. Was he serious? Or was it the result of his strange taste in clothing? Anyway, Noctis shook his head and as patiently as he was capable of explained that the ‘hat’ was sewn quite badly, and looked totally ridiculous, and its cost was hideous for something of that quality, and next time Ardyn shouldn’t be so trusted towards everything people tried to sell to him.

Ignis had some similar talk with Noctis when he tried to live alone in an apartment the crown rented for him. He learned his lesson well that time. But then he was young and barely knew how one’s daily life should have worked, but Ardyn was a grown-up, Chancellor of a whole Empire – was his knowledge of everyday life that oblivious too? Didn’t he have his own advisors and retainers to explain him how life worked?

Or was it just a minor occurrence with these hats and Noct was just flying off the handle for no particular reason?

Suddenly something waved right before his eyes and he instinctively jerked back. Ardyn lowered his palm, smiling at him.

“There you are. Welcome back.”

Noctis could only scoff at that, but with no heat behind. He let out a long sigh, ruffled his hair and looked around. They were standing at broader street with different kind of shops and smaller market stalls throughout its length.

“I’m overly surprised seeing you here,” Ardyn admitted, tapping his chin again, “but enormously pleased as well. Some urgent business brought you here or is it just to enjoy the city’s attractions?”

“We’re just passing by, honestly,” Noct shrugged, fixing him with a questioning stare in return. “And what business brought _you_ here?”

“Oh, a trivial check, nothing more,” the man waved light-heartedly.

“Check?” Noctis raised his brows and Ardyn raised one of his own in return.

“Didn’t you know we have a little outpost near the Disc of Cauthess over there?” he nodded towards the horizon, where a glowing piece of meteorite could be seen. “It’s common knowledge, actually.”

“I…” Noctis paused, at loss for a moment. “No, I didn’t. But why there?” he glanced towards the Disc on impulse. “I thought the place is used only by EXINERIS Industries.”

“Of course,” the Chancellor, it seemed, was all too happy to explain. “The power plant produces energy from the crystals they are mining at the Disc, and Niflheim buys them as well.”

“You’re buying and energy crystals?” Noctis thought his brows would reach his hairline. “What for?”

“Ah,” the man’s face suddenly turned mysterious, his smile enigmatic and crooked. “You’ll have to visit Gralea to find out then.”

Despite himself, Noctis burst out a small laugh, shaking his head. It was hilarious how this man turned everything upside down in mere seconds.

“Okay, you got me,” he grinned, crossing arms over his chest. “I promise I’ll consider it.”

“Perfect,” Ardyn clasped his hands together, a childlike excitement flowing out of him in waves that almost made the sun above them shine brighter. Honestly, the very air around him smelled of something sweet and honey-like, coating Noctis in warmth, making his heart jump with the same excitement he saw on the man’s face.

Though his eyes… Something still wasn’t right with them. Noctis barely suppressed an urge to rise on his tiptoes and look in those eyes like into two golden pools. He feared and anticipated at the same time everything he might have seen in there.

While he had thoughts like these, the man’s attention slipped to something behind him already. Noctis turned in time to see another market with souvenirs.

“Is that tiny replicas of those energy crystals?” the Chancellor wondered, the smile on his face already turning even broader and Noctis had a horrifying suspicion the recent story might repeat itself.

Of course, after a second, Ardyn was already glued to the market with tiny crystals, which honestly were just badly crafted pieces of colorful glass, touching them in childlike excitement to the seller’s obvious glee. Noctis let out a suffering groan rushing to pry him away from another fraud he was trying to fall into.

To his credit he was successful again; patiently explaining to his slightly confused companion that he shouldn’t spent his money on something like that. Ardyn placed a palm over his heart, promising he won’t fall into another trap, only to do _exactly the same right at the next market_.

After the sixth one Noctis was ready to tear his own hair out, yet the bubbling feeling of hilarity threatened to burst out of his chest sooner than he’d decided on it. By the time Ardyn was admiring Moogle fluff balls of different sizes and colors with lips slightly parted, Noctis’s face wore a brightest grin he never thought he was capable to have.

He opened his mouth to tell the man these were, in fact, for children, when Ardyn beat him to it and pouted, totally knocking the ground from under his feet better than any earthquake would have ever done. The fluffy result dangled from his coat’s pocket, probably attracting attention (the grown-up man with a Moogle fluffy pendant peeking from his side pocket!), but Ardyn, it seemed, couldn’t care less, shining with joy and already seeking something else among variety of markets.

Noctis could only follow him, so undeniably happy himself that it was almost ridiculous. Though, he needed to admit he wouldn’t trade it for anything else ever.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mentioned fluff in previous chapter. There's MORE in this one.  
> As always, thank you for your sweet feedback!

Noctis popped a stick back into his mouth defiantly, narrowing his eyes at the man before him. Ardyn blinked back and started twirling his own stick between fingers again, as if at loss of what to do with it.

“It’s an ice-cream,” Noctis stressed as much as he could with his own mouth half full with chilling sweetness. He couldn’t tell what flavor his own had, but it smelled nice and had an acid-blue color with tiny black dots covering it. Probably, it was just fruit-ice with some additions, nothing more.

Ardyn picked something pinkish and totally hideous with caramel streaks, that threatened to start melting _soon_ , but took his time observing it from both sides with a look of a child seeing something strange but undoubtedly interesting for the first time.

“I can see the ice,” he agreed finally, his face turning slightly wary. “But can you actually press your tongue to it? Won’t it stick?”

“What?” Noctis chuckled incredulously. “No, no, it’s not _that_ ice! Look,” he tugged an already half eaten ice-cream out of his mouth. “My tongue’s pretty alright. This ice is pabular and it melts quickly. Actually, just like yours by now.”

He quickly pointed to sticky streaks of caramel and fruit syrupy Ardyn’s ice-cream (probably) consisted of, which were already leaking on his fingers and glove, leaving bright-pinkish spots. Ardyn blinked at his now smeared hand in surprise, while Noctis fumbled in his own pockets for a napkin or at least a handkerchief. Before he was able to retrieve any though, Ardyn raised his stained hand to his face and licked his own finger.

Noctis froze, stopped dead in his tracks and unable to tear his gaze away suddenly, while Chancellor of Niflheim placed the dripping ice-cream in another hand, lowered it upside down so that it stained the ground instead, and liked his own fingers clean without a second thought. Popping out index finger at last, he hummed in what sounded like obvious pleasure, blinding Noctis with another smile.

“Such unique flavor I must say but definitely palatable. Oh,” he raised his now partially ruined ice-cream, “I guess it’s still too sweet for me to bear.”

He looked around, probably searching for a trash can, and, finding one, neatly placed his almost clean stick in there. Noctis observed everything silently, his own ice-cream probably ruined already too, because he completely forgot to pop it back in his mouth.

Which was totally fine actually, because he didn’t want it anymore. As much as he didn’t want to think about that strange urge, which raised its head inside him, twisting his stomach in knots. The urge to taste those fingers by himself, whether bits of an ice-cream where there or not.

He probably had to be terrified by these kinds of thoughts, but he wasn’t. Everything he felt was that still present urge, which made his fingers twitch, as if in attempt to raise his hand, reach out and–

It was the exact moment a bone-crashing pain pierced his skull, forcing him to double over and making it nearly impossible for him to breathe. A chocked grunt turned into something close to a sob instead, and Noctis squeezed his eyes shut, cradling his head in both hands.

It was so painful! Almost as much as something he felt once… a long time ago. Something that nearly tore him in half, took him apart–

–took someone away from him.

Flashes of pictures streaked off behind his closed eyelids, then a distant roar shook his whole body and Noctis nearly blacked out from its intensity. He just wanted it to end.

Not as much as he wanted something else, though. Something he had once, but lost a long time ago. He could have it now again, he just had to reach and take it.

It was right the–

The ground shook beneath his feet, knocking him off, but something steadied him, helped him. Something cold and familiar. He wanted to open his eyes, because he knew that sensation already, he needed to check, to make sure – but the pain was so intense… His body betrayed him, his mind occupied by something unrelenting and violent, and he wanted to crawl away, to hide…

Like he did a long time ago, in a wet and dark place – was it a park? – riding out the storm somewhere safe. He was afraid and then he wasn’t anymore when that safe engulfed him, protected him… 

He wanted it back and it returned. It was cold, but familiar, and it took his pain away, and suddenly his head was ringing, but that force that invaded it was gone, and he whimpered, leaning against this _safety_ and everything finally became fine.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

When Noctis opened his eyes next time, he was laying in the backseat of a car – not Regalia, though. He sat, blinking hard, while his head threatened to fall off, but the pain was blessedly gone. He would have cried from joy if not for the fact that Ardyn was sitting sideways at the front seat, looking at him with a soft smile.

Noctis thought he should have said something, maybe, but Ardyn was quicker.

“From the deep the Archean calls,” he murmured in a voice so soft and gentle Noctis felt it covering him like a warm blanket. “Yet in deaf ears the gods tongue falls. Made to kneel in pain he crawls…” he paused cocking his head to the side, when Noctis just gaped at him.

“What was that?”

“You need only heed the call, Your Highness,” his eyes turned briefly towards the horizon, which was still brightly lit with golden light of the sun. “Go to the Archean and hear his plea. Then your tortures will end.”

As if in answer, the ground shook again, a distant rumbling sound coming through it sent shivers up Noctis’ spine but his head remained clear, if not too heavy. Ardyn smiled, closing his eyes for a moment, as if pleased to receive something he waited for, and glanced back at Noctis.

“I can take you there if you want.”

“Why?” Noctis croaked at last, wincing from how weak it sounded. He definitely made a mess of himself, collapsing in the middle of a day. And to have Ardyn bring him here? He probably had to drag Noct’s unresponsive weight all by himself, which was as embarrassing as it was horrible. He definitely needed to apologize.

“I’m headed that way in any case,” the Chancellor shrugged jauntily. He flashed a smile at Noct’s puzzled expression. “An outpost, remember?”

“Headed…” Noctis repeated slowly, thoughts already racing to grasp new information. “Wait. Is that your car?” he looked around, observing light-leather seats, a steering wheel of the same color, a shiny red transmission and the fact that the whole car was convertible just like Regalia.

And red, he noticed, hanging slightly to the side, just to check was it his imagination or… Yeah, not a trick of mind then. The car was definitely red.

“Yes,” the Chancellor beamed at him, nearly bouncing in excitement. “A dear old thing,” he patted the steering wheel with a tender smile. “Do you like it?”

“Um…” Noctis paused, fighting the urge to scratch his head and hide his eyes. To tell the truth, the car was totally a vintage one and he never understood someone’s love for these kinds of things (honestly, if you have money you should buy something brand new, that’s how he always thought), but it definitely was not the answer Ardyn expected. “It’s fine… I guess.”

To his horror the Chancellor let out a pitiful sigh, lips forming a pout.

“I knew you won’t like it, but let myself hope anyway…” another sigh, eyes downcast and fingers poking a wheel. Noctis raised both palms quickly, waving at him.

“No, no, it’s not like that, I actually like it, really, I like it…” he stopped when Ardyn suddenly chuckled, looking back at him with a cat-got-the-cream kind of smile.

“I’m joking,” he winked, face shining with sly mirth. “It’s okay; you can like and not like anything. So shall we be off then, before that headache of yours returns?” he pointed his index finger at Noct’s temple, making him remember something about that particular finger which made him hot all over.

“Yeah,” he coughed, masking his sudden reluctance to glance at dangerous limb. He looked from under his eyelashes how Ardyn turned and gripped the steering wheel with both hands. In a matter of seconds the car roared back to life.

When they were already moving, some thought occurred to Noctis, throwing him in cold sweat. He fumbled for his phone, watching ten missing calls from Ignis and Prompto flickering accusingly on the screen, before hastily dialing his advisor’s number.

That led to a five-minute flow of accusations and lecture in a most stern voice Ignis could use (which probably wasn’t his limit), before Noctis finally revealed his current location with a heavy heart, which in turn led to a horrified silence on that end. After an unbearably long minute of dead silence, Ignis asked in a deathly voice (not his limit, definitely) where, by the Six, he was going. After Noctis told him the final destination Ardyn was currently taking him to, Ignis threw a quick “We’ll meet you there” and finished the call.

Noctis stared at his phone, already imagining everything his retainer would tell him in a matter of hours. Great. But he couldn’t help being carried away, actually. The day was warm, and then he met Ardyn again, and everything was so funny and nice… and Noctis never felt more relaxed when during those hours of wandering through the city with Chancellor of Niflheim, who was looking at the world around them like an over-excited puppy.

He caught a sight of Moogle pendant dangling happily from a rear-view window and couldn’t help a smile splitting his face in half. Yes, his headaches were horrible and they nearly ruined this perfect day, but he was on his way to make everything alright again.

He leaned back, closed his eyes and let wind caress his face. It ruffled his hair too and Noctis cracked his eyes open, looking at Ardyn again. The man’s eyes were on a road – it was actually the only visible part of his face, as a reflection in a rear-view mirror, with Noctis sitting right behind him. Wind ruffled his hair as well, dancing among the scarlet locks delicately, as if in fear it might damage them.

They seemed soft. Noctis’ hand itched to touch, and he had to clench it into a fist to hold back. Yet he had a feeling he was right – Ardyn’s hair was undeniably soft. And beautiful too.

Just like Ardyn himself.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

When they finally reached the gates, the ground was shaking almost non-stop. Noctis felt a strong pull towards something behind those gates, a tight string in his mind which was tugged constantly, making him wince from small shocks of pain.

While he tried to recover from another round of flashes, Ardyn raised hand to his eyes, looking towards the horizon.

“If I’m not mistaken, there are your friends,” he pointed towards a small black spot, rapidly growing in size. Judging by the speed, Ignis was driving at maximum and Noctis groaned, realizing how pissed off his advisor was to break his own rules of ‘Drive carefully!’.

Great, if the pain didn’t kill him, Ignis probably would.

“I think it’s time to change cars,” Ardyn guessed right, smiling sympathetically at him when Noctis climbed out of the back seat.

“Thank you,” Noctis placed all sincerity he was feeling into his voice. “For your help and… um…” he paused, not knowing how better to proceed, but Ardyn just waved at him light-heartedly.

“Don’t mention it, Your Highness,” they dropped titles of course and this time it sounded just simply playful. “After all, you were my knight in shining armor today; I can’t stand not to return the favor.”

Noctis let a grin appear on his face and crossed arms over his chest.

“Oh?” he lifted a brow at man’s innocent smile. “So I’m your knight now? Do you know I’m of the royal blood to be just a simple knight?”

Ardyn’s smile was as innocent as before when he shrugged and proposed something else.

“If it’s the case, you can be my King then.”

And that meant to sound like another joke to Noct’s own, but somehow it left him speechless, mind entirely blank. The ground probably shook still, the Archean might have sent more images at him, but he barely noticed all of it. Not when inside that sudden emptiness of his brain the only one thought nonetheless resided. The thought that should have terrified him.

 _I’d like that_.

But it didn’t.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

Everything moved so fast after that. One minute he was acquiring the Mystic’s Sword, watching in silent awe as it swirled in a circle of its ‘brothers’ around him; then the ground collapsed right beneath his feet and he survived only with Gladio’s help.

When the four of them reached the Titan at last and he ceased his efforts to crush them with his enormous limbs, Noctis felt a quick pang of familiar pain, and then Archean suddenly startet shining with blinding gold light. It touched Noct’s chest, showing him a brief image of kneeling Lunafreya, but he barely had time to understand, before one of the Six disappeared right in front of his eyes and a Covenant – the first one among the whole point of his journey – was finally formed.

Probably, he thought while trying to calm his breathing, he should have just straight headed here in the first place, if it was his main duty.

When the ground started crumbling again, slowly filling with lava which threatened to burn them alive, an Imperial airship suddenly lowered itself from the sky. Prompto groaned somewhere to the side.

“What are _they_ doing here?!”

“Probably it flew from their outpost when Archean disappeared,” Ignis frowned, tensing up beside Noctis, but Noct had a distinct suspicion it wasn’t like that.

He was proved right when the ramp opened, revealing none other than Ardyn, looking down on them with friendly smile.

“Imperial Chancellor Izunia?!” there was a double amount of disbelief and suspicion in Ignis’ voice and Noctis thought he probably should have told them who brought him here in the first place. Strangely, he left that out.

“Hello,” the said man raised his arms in a welcoming gesture. “It seems I wasn’t mistaken when decided to check what was going here. Need some help, I suppose?”

Before Ignis or Gladio decided to intensify their already suspicious glares, Noctis stepped forward, lifting his own hand in greeting.

“Actually,” he swayed, when the ground under his feet shook hard again. “Yes.”

Ardyn said nothing else, stepping to the side and motioning with his hand invitingly, as if greeting guests on the steps of his castle. Noctis stifled a snort and climbed first, nodding towards others hastily, when lava burst out of the ground again.

The ramp closed, shielding them away from any dangers the now empty Disc might still held, and Noctis let out a relieved sigh. Beside him Prompto sat right on a floor, leaning back on his hands, Ignis and Gladio following exhaustedly.

“How fortunate that I’ve made it right on time,” Ardyn summarized beside him, leaning on the now closed ramp, hands on his hips and crooked smile on his face. 

“Yes, what a happy coincidence,” Prompto scoffed, squinting at him with previous suspicions and Noctis felt slightly bad, watching his friends showing such mistrust towards the man whom he considered…

A good associate. Yes. That was the right word.

Ardyn, thankfully, didn’t seem offended a slightest bit – if any, he wore a pleased and quite friendly kind of smile, despite slightly crooked still. It just made him look smugger actually, which suited him.

Well, every expression he showed suited him.

“Thank you for your help, Your Excellency” Ignis scrambled to his feet, probably deciding to ease the amount of mistrust three of them were currently showing. “Though, we’d like you to drop us off back at Lestallum as soon as possible.”

“Oh,” Ardyn’s smile turned slightly worried, but Noctis saw he was faking it. “It would be quite a painful landing, I must admit.”

When Ignis blinked at him, he chuckled, dropping the act.

“Of course I’ll take you back at Lestallum safely, if it’s your desire,” he slightly inclined his head, agreeing to any location the four of them might have chosen. 

That raised an idea.

“Actually, I’ll prefer you drop us off somewhere else,” Noctis suggested. Ignoring Ignis’ raised brows, he turned to Prompto. “You indentified out next location?”

Of course, he meant another royal tomb – he knew others would understand him. Prompto’s eyes widened and he fumbled for his phone. He beamed when he did, showing Noctis a thumbs up.

“Very well then,” Ardyn swiftly said. Noctis saw him smiling pleasantly at Prompto. “I suggest you just place needed coordinates on the control panel and the ship will take you there.”

“Great,” Noctis nodded instead of Prompto, motioning his friend to stand. “Where’s this panel then?”

The door at the end of a hangar they were currently in hissed and opened, revealing an armored person with eyes blazing red. When he approached, they saw it wasn’t an actual person but a MT, one of Empire’s soldiers.

“He will take you at commander’s deck,” Ardyn explained, while MT waited patiently for next command. Noctis noted the Chancellor called this soldier ‘he’, not ‘it’.

“Oh, okay,” Prompto was looking at the MT with such uneasiness it made Gladio suggest he follow too. When the two of them walked out of the hangar together with MT, Ardyn motioned to another door.

“Please, be my guests,” he offered, leading Noctis and Ignis to another, more comfortable compartment. Then he wished them a good rest and was off. Not once he mentioned to others he and Noctis knew each other already, which was totally fine actually, yet Noctis couldn’t help but think _why_.

That’s why he wasn’t surprised himself when, after Gladio’s and Prompto’s return, he mumbled something about ‘stretching his legs’ and ‘getting his head straight’, going on a search for their generous host. Gladly, he soon found him in another compartment, a few corridors away from theirs.

“Your Highness,” the Chancellor was sitting in a chair when he entered. He beamed at him in pleasant surprise. “Is everything alright? Are you and your friends quite comfortable?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine, thanks,” Noctis hastened to assure him, smiling too. “Just wanted to stretch my legs a bit and…” he paused, looking for right words. “Honestly, can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” Ardyn placed hand over his heart, as if offering his complete generosity. “I’m at your service, ask anything you want. Please, take a seat,” he motioned at another chair, which Noctis gladly took.

He traced the armrests with his fingers, involuntarily delaying the talk, but Ardyn didn’t push, just propped the side of his face on a fist and watched him curiously.

“First of all,” Noctis cleared his throat, “I wanted to thank you for your help. If not for you, we probably would have been dead by now…”

“Please, don’t mention it,” Ardyn waived his palm light-heartedly. “To tell the truth, I was rather concerned, after you entered the Disc, whether things went fine for you there, so I decided to check for myself.”

“We were lucky you did that,” Noctis admitted with a small smile, which Ardyn returned right away.

“It appeared I was just in the right place at the right time.”

‘ _As always_ ’ was on the tip of Noctis’ tongue, but he swallowed it against his better judgment. Instead he just nodded and smiled again.

After a bit of silence, Ardyn spoke first.

“If that’s everything you wanted to talk about, you shouldn’t have bothered yourself,” he genuinely assured. “There’s nothing to thank me for, as I already told you.”

“No,” Noctis shook his head, leaning forward in his chair. “I felt I should thank you properly. Ignis already did it formally, you probably don’t remember him, he’s the guy with glasses…”

“Ah, your advisor, master Scientia,” Ardyn’s face lit up with recognition. “You’ve introduced him to me at Caelum Via. Of course I remember.”

“Yeah,” somehow, Noct was glad he did, really. “My other friends, though… The blonde one is Prompto Argentum by the way, and the last one is Gladio… I mean, Gladiolus Amicitia.”

“Oh, the family of Lucian Royal Shields?” there was genuine curiosity in Ardyn’s voice. “I’ve heard they dedicate their life to protect their Kings. So Gladiolus is your Shield then?”

“Something like that. Yeah.”

Ardyn hummed at that, looking at Noctis with some form of interest. His eyes seemed to take him in from head to toe, before the man spoke again.

“So he’s your protector, then. Tell me, Your Highness, do you really need someone to protect you?”

Noctis regarded him with narrowed eyes, while Ardyn flashed another smile – sly and crooked.

“If he’s your sworn protector, then he should accompany you everywhere, while you’re away from the safety of Insomnia. But I can’t see him with us right now. Tell me, why is that?”

“Gladio’s duty is to be my Shield but I can protect myself quite well too, thank you very much,” Noctis deadpanned, crossing arms over his chest. “And why would I need to bring him here with me now? Should I need protection from you?”

“I don’t know,” Ardyn shrugged with the most insufferable look on his face, lips curling in a small grin. “Depends on a reason you’re here now.”

“I wanted to thank you,” Noctis shrugged too, his defense dropping. It was just a small joking banter between the two of them.

“You did,” the way Ardyn looked at him, as if waiting for something, sent shivers up Noct’s spine.

“Do you want me to go then?” he raised his brow, but Ardyn was already shaking his head.

“Certainly not,” his smile was soft and dazzling all of sudden. “I like talking to you.”

Noctis more or less swallowed his own tongue after that, unable to form a coherent answer. And what should he have said, after all? ‘ _I like talking to you too_ ’? Probably, he should have, but he couldn’t.

Because that wasn’t the truth. Because the real truth consisted only of three words from this sentence. Noctis didn’t want to try and pick which ones.

He knew them already.

He felt his own lips twisting into something close to a lopsided grin. It wasn’t genuine.

“Even if the talk is this pointless one?”

“It’s not pointless with you,” Ardyn answered with the same smile and suddenly Noctis felt such strong urge to do something he was hardly surprised when he stood up.

“When I came here, I wanted to apologize for my friends as well, actually,” he pointed with no meaning, standing awkwardly across from Ardyn, who was still sitting and looking at him with the same soft smile.

“Do you still want to do it?” he cocked his head slightly.

It was strange, but all of a sudden Ardyn was looking _up_ at him. It took Noctis a second to understand that he moved closer and now was almost towering over the man. He knew he should step aside, it wasn’t polite and it was _dangerous_ to move that close–

Because otherwise–

“Then what is it that you want to do?” Ardyn seemed relaxed – totally unbothered by the fact that Noctis was standing so close to him. His voice felt like warm caramel in Noct’s own throat.

He wanted to taste it and make sure it definitely was like that.

“I should say ‘ _to talk more_ ’,” he felt giddy, slight smirk appearing on his face. It was crazy and ridiculous, but in this very moment he felt everything and so much, which never happened to him before.

It made him feel light-hearted, but powerful at the same time.

“Maybe you should,” Ardyn was still smiling up at him too. “But?”

“But I won’t,” Noctis shrugged flippantly.

“And why is that?” it seemed Ardyn decided to relax even more, because he leaned slightly back against the chair’s spine.

Or it was since Noctis leaned down, grabbing the armrests with both hands. It seemed the chair wasn’t too broad, for the reason that way their faces hovered mere inches apart. Neither of them moved back.

“Probably because there’s something else I really want to do,” Noctis’ voice dropped to something close to a whisper, while he watched in fascination how his breath touched the silky strands of Ardyn’s hair.

He didn’t need to touch them to know how they felt. 

He knew that already.

Ardyn didn’t ask more questions – he simply smiled at him. He stopped when their lips met – Noctis swallowed his smile completely, tasting it, searching for that honey-like sweetness he felt every time Ardyn showed him his smiling face.

He didn’t find it, though, but something else was there. Something he wanted to drink from now on instead of water, to breathe it instead of air, to let it fill his lungs, his brain, his entire body – to make him whole and complete. It had no specific taste – and even if it did, he couldn’t name it, because there wasn’t any word for it except–

 _Ardyn_.

It made him feel light-headed. It drowned him in warmth and coldness at the same time, creating such mix of sensations that Noct’s head started swimming.

It didn’t scare him. He barely remembered that by that moment he actually never kissed anyone before – he hadn’t even felt an urge to do so until he met this man. Until his whole world turned upside down with just one smile.

Noctis wanted to drown in that kiss, but not as much as he wanted not to break it ever again.

He did eventually, but it never felt like crashing back to reality – everything still felt incredible, like first rays of morning sun streaming through the curtains on a bed, creating small pools of light on pillows and dancing in the red silk spilled beside his outstretched hand.

Noctis didn’t know what that was and he honestly didn’t care. He just stood there between the legs of a man whose arms were holding the small of his back, and couldn’t make himself think again. He didn’t want to. 

He lowered his face in Ardyn’s hair, inhaling its smell and smiled, pressing light kisses to feathery-soft strands. They tickled his cheeks and nose and he tried to press his lips to each and every one, smiling when Ardyn answered with something close to a purr, sending vibrations through their bodies.

Noctis didn’t want to think about how wrong that might have been. Didn’t want to think about his duty he was violating with these actions. Didn’t want to think about his friends, or Luna, or Royal Arms, or Covenants, or the world at large.

He didn’t want to think at all.

All he wanted was in his arms now. 

Ardyn let out a soft ‘Hmm’ and tilted his head slightly so Noctis’ lips touched his temple. That made Noct chuckle against cool skin – honestly, Ardyn radiated such warmth while being cold to the touch – and kiss it again.

It felt right – this moment here felt so, _so_ right. He wanted to tighten his hands around the man in his arms and tell the world to fuck off. He didn’t want to loose this.

He didn’t want to loose this _again_ –

“My friends,” he whispered against Ardyn’s hair, pressing his cheek to it. “I don’t want them to come and take me away now.”

“They won’t,” Ardyn hummed, nuzzling against his chest; Noctis just tightened his own embrace on his shoulders.

“How can you be so sure?” he dreaded the moment Ignis and others would come searching for him, wondering what took him so long.

“I stopped the time for us,” Ardyn simply answered and Noctis couldn’t help but chuckle happily at that. Oh, how he wished it could have been real – but maybe if he truly believed, then the time would definitely ‘stop’ for a few minutes longer.

“I’m glad you did,” he answered with his own soft smile and closed his eyes, kissing Ardyn’s hair again. The man in his arms said nothing else, just pressed slightly close. His body felt soft and pliant, like he completely trusted Noctis to do anything he wanted to him.

Noctis, for his part, wanted nothing more than to kiss him again, drinking his breath like water, which he gladly did.

The world was soft and silent around them, as if the time truly stopped for this moment to last for eternity. Well, Noctis couldn’t be happier if it truly was like that.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beware of major angst in this one. I'm sorry, people, but it have to be done.  
> Anyways, hope you'll still like it! Thank you for your wonderful feedback!

His friends barely commented that he took so long to ‘stretch his legs’. Ignis just spared him a long glance and asked if everything was okay, to which Noct shrugged ‘Fine’ and flopped on an uncomfortable-looking sofa.

He would have preferred Ardyn’s arms again, but he couldn’t risk staying too long there without raising some suspicions. They were already heading towards next Royal Tomb and then Altissia and Luna waited for them – another meeting, another Covenant, another step towards his duty…

His lips were tingling when he touched them. Noctis hid a smile behind his palm and closed his eyes. He felt so powerful that he thought the gods could come to him all at once and he’d take their power without even a wince.

A devastating thunderstorm slightly muted by the walls of their current ‘flying residence’ felt like a formidable answer to his thoughts. Noctis rolled off his still uncomfortable but rather vantage-ground, craning his neck up towards the ceiling, as if it held an explanation.

“What was that?” Prompto whispered chokingly behind him, but another answering sound of thunder made him yelp.

“We’re entering a storm? Does this guy even know where he’s taking us?” Gladio huffed. His chair clattered when he stood up.

“I’ve checked metcast this morning and there was no storm coming,” this time it was Ignis who stood too, judging by the following shuffling, but Noctis barely paid them any attention.

His fingers twitched as if jolts of electricity cut through them, pinching the skin. An outlying sense of need to be there – _outside_ – lured him towards the exit, pushing at his knees in never-ending demand to move.

“Prompto, take me to the commander’s deck,” he asked and there had to be something in his voice because no one questioned him. Prompto’s face was slightly worried when he showed the way, but otherwise he said nothing too.

When they entered, Ardyn was already there, wearing his trade-mark smile. He was looking at control panels as if he saw them for the first time and was that close from poking every controller with beginners enthusiasm. Noctis barely held his own smile while looking at him.

Something soft resided in his chest now, whenever he looked at the man.

“I’m sorry to interrupt our journey, but we have to land as soon as possible,” he explained when Ardyn noticed him.

“Well, my guests’ wish is my command,” Ardyn very nearly bowed, seemingly unperturbed by Noct’s sudden decision. “But are you sure? We’re entering quite a storm here.”

Three of them, including Prompto who hovered near the door, looked at the observing panel, only to see it splashed constantly by the hands of nature. Noctis, for the love of everything sacred, would never voluntarily trade a safe place for something this awful, but he had no choice.

Maybe it showed on his face because Ardyn let out a small chuckle, shaking his head at the same time. He told the MT, sitting at the control panel, to begin their slow landing. Noctis, on the other hand, sent Prompto to grab Ignis and Gladio and prepare Regalia.

“I’ll join you in a minute,” he added when Prompto raised a brow. Thankfully, he didn’t ask any questions, retreating hastily towards their compartment.

Noctis looked back at the observing panel, clenching his hand in a fist to prevent jolt of electricity from dancing on his skin. If he guessed right, they would dance there again very soon. His other hand, due to his will, slightly touched the back of Ardyn’s hand.

Ardyn only smiled more, offering Noctis his palm. Noct squeezed it for a long moment, fighting a swift urge to kiss his knuckles, but before one of them could say anything the whole ship made a small lurch and finally landed on a solid ground.

“I’d ask you to stop time again but it’ll be unfair,” Noctis joked. He didn’t want to walk away when he had no clue when they would meet again.

Ardyn turned to him and this time his smile seemed kind of strange, like he didn’t even know it appeared on his face. Noctis wanted to kiss it, but reality was that he had no time already.

“I’ll wait,” he only whispered, squeezing his fingers again, and ran towards his friends, while the whole ship wracked with another violent thunderstorm.

As if nature itself tried to tear Noctis out of Imperial’s ship, sensing that it was something he was quite unwilling to do.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

After the Trial of Ramuh he slept almost the whole day, waking up only before they switched Regalia to his father’s yacht. After all, it was the only way to reach Altissia. To do that properly they returned at Galdin, where the yacht was already prepared for them (as he later learned, Ignis made some important calls while he was asleep), and half an hour later Noctis was breathing fresh ocean’s air, head tilted up towards thankfully cloudless sky.

When he touched that tree and a lightning came out from under his palm, he saw a vision of Luna again – more vivid one, compared to that time with Titan. She bowed before the great elder in the sky – Ramuh himself – undoubtedly asking him to form a Covenant with Noctis.

She wore white dress, a great trident in her hand, but otherwise it was everything Noctis managed to catch. He wondered how she looked like – was she the same nice girl he met in his childhood or there was a strong and decent lady waiting him in Altissia.

He wanted to see her. To take her hands in his, to see her smile again after all these years, to sit together like back then in Tenebrae and listen to her read. He wanted to tell her he saw Ravus and how her brother changed so much in appearance, and learn whether she changed too.

He wanted to tell her he missed her and their time in Tenebrae, and their walks, and her garden of flowers. He wanted to ask would they be able to return to those days again, when there were no Covenants waiting, no duty of King and Oracle – where she was his dear friend and the world felt almost whole.

Yeah, _almost_ whole, because despite him being safe and content, despite him having his friends and Luna and his father – something was missing. A part of him, which completed everything.

A part he missed so much without knowing what it was. He only felt – all his not so long life – that he wanted it. He wanted it _back_ because once he _had_ it.

He wanted to ask Luna if she knew what exactly that part was. If she was his Oracle, maybe gods showed her what would make him whole again.

Yet, honestly, that sheer desperation to finally know was not so hard now. He forgot about it entirely – which never happened before – when Ardyn kissed him, when Noct’s mind exploded with feeling of ‘rightness’ and he forgot all his troubles even for a short amount of time. Maybe that was his possible solace – in Ardyn’s arms, if that part he was still missing would never return to him.

Yes, they barely knew each other, but Noctis had a thought that he would gladly cease all search for that absent part if he would have Ardyn instead; and judging by the way Ardyn himself kissed him back he probably wasn’t opposed to this prospect. It was the world at large who would eventually be opposed – Noctis had no delusions about Niflheim’s reaction to scandalous ‘affair’ their Chancellor dared to start with Lucian prince.

One kiss couldn’t be described even as an ‘affair’ at all, yet Noctis already felt a strong pull to create _more_ out of it. He couldn’t say such words like ‘love’ – it was probably too soon for that, but a profound feeling of attraction deeply resided inside him. He wanted to see Ardyn again, to touch his face and kiss it. To learn what he liked, to card fingers through his hair and feel its softness again.

He liked that hair – its unique color of deep wine, its feathery softness, its slight unruliness and the way it framed Ardyn’s face beautifully…

Was it long once?

He couldn’t imagine it being long actually – something prevented him from doing it. Maybe he just liked it this way, but he’d probably ask Ardyn when they meet again whether he had another hairstyle in the past.

He wanted to see him again.

This realization – this pull to see the man right now was so strong that Noctis opened his eyes… only to the find the shadow covering the whole yacht. Turning his head he saw a great rock looming above – it obscured the entire sky, painting the whole world in dark-brown hues. It swallowed the sounds of yacht’s engine and lapping of the water.

And Noct’s breath.

He didn’t know the name of this place or why it caused such effect on everything around all of sudden. All he knew was that he saw it once.

He saw this place before.

When they passed it, the world returned: noises and colors, but Noctis paid it no mind. He picked up his phone and started searching – it didn’t take too long.

“Angelgard,” he read the island’s name aloud. It left a strange taste on the tip of his tongue – bitter, sour taste he had before only once.

When he cried. It resembled a taste of tears.

He never cried since he was a small child – last time he did it was in Tenebrae and he hardly remembered why. After all this time he couldn’t even tell the details – everything that came to mind was the sole fact of crying.

Since then he never did it again, but now… Now he felt like that salty taste of tears flowed down his throat. Taste of tears that weren’t his…

“An island of the gods,” Ignis’ voice broke him out of his thoughts. Noctis only blinked, while Prompto was too eager to know more.

“What, they gather up there or something?” he jumped up excitedly, looking back at the aforementioned island as if there was a chance he would spot a god or two roaming around.

“It’s just like people say,” Ignis shrugged indifferently; judging by the look on his face, he hardly believed any gods were stupid enough to meet at such grim place as that island was.

“Dad told me it was a prison in ancient times,” Gladio joined in, leaning against his seat. “The criminals were sent there to reflect upon their sins.”

“And they did?” Prompto raised his brows skeptically.

“Dunno,” Gladio shrugged and then a smirk tugged at his lips. “No one returned from there ever.”

Prompto cringed, shoving at his shoulder when Gladio started laughing in a deep amused rumble. Ignis just shook his head, but Noctis saw he was smiling too.

“Maybe the beast ate them,” Gladio supposed, after calming down, and Prompto paled immediately again.

“The beast?!”

“There’s _no_ beast,” Ignis fixed his glasses, throwing a look towards Gladio as if he was saying nonsense. “It’s just horror stories for children.”

“I liked to hear horror stories when I was a child,” Gladio flashed him an all-teeth-smile. “Iris always hided under the covers, though.”

“What stories?” it seemed Prompto dreaded to hear the answer and at the same time wanted to know it badly, judging by the cautiously-excited look on his face.

“I don’t really know myself,” Gladio admitted honestly, shrugging again. “Something about a monster of the past, supposedly sealed away within.”

“There were some investigations throughout years and no evidence was found,” Ignis didn’t fail to promptly add his skeptical opinion. “As I said, it’s just stories.”

“Well, I hope so,” Prompto let out a relieved ‘phew’, relaxing against his own seat.

Noctis said nothing during the whole talk. He just sat there, looking back at the island, swallowing bitter taste of tears which weren’t his own.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

The first thing they noticed was two Imperial ships in Altissia’s airspace. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why they were here. 

Because of Luna. 

Even so Noct’s gut clenched in dread when he thought about it. Empire already knew Luna escaped its hold and hided in Altissia, that’s why they came after her. That’s why he needed to meet her himself as soon as possible, before Empire would try to interfere.

He needed not to only meet her, but ask her what they would do next. Why Altissia, why did his father chose this place to keep Luna in. When they parted, Regis told him he would know everything after meeting Luna again, but now it seemed as not an easiest task.

He was proved right after meeting the Secretary Claustra and learning main news about situation. Empire announced that Princess Lunafreya was abducted and sent a search party. It didn’t take them long to track her to Altissia (the Secretary guessed her city had Imperial’s spies, which she couldn’t get rid off anytime soon). Surprisingly, all this time Niflheim didn’t implicate anyone for this ‘theft’, but Noctis understood an indication that they already guessed who was behind it.

That was the case Princess was kept in secluded place under Secretary’s personal order. Camelia assured Noctis she was safe and sound, but strongly declined his request to meet her before the summon.

As it turned out, Luna was getting ready to summon the Tidemother – one of the Six, Leviathan. This matter concerned Camelia greatly, because she feared it would cause a great commotion: not only the goddess herself might pose a threat to the city in general, but it was possible Niflheim would try and get in the way of the ritual to take Luna back.

Learning from her that it was none other than Imperial High Commander Nox Fleuret that personally arrived to ‘deal with the situation’, Noctis was already heavily sure about Camelia’s second concern.

In the end he could only made a promise to do everything in his power not to let the goddess to destroy the city. A promise he hardly believed himself and by the look on Secretary’s face she didn’t either.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

It was Nyx Ulric who awaited him and his friends at Leville that night. It appeared Luna herself asked him to find Noctis the moment he arrived. He delivered her message: she hoped Noctis’ journey went well so far and assured him she was safe and fine. While saying the last part Nyx had a strange look on his face, closer to tension, but quickly composed himself.

He refused to return back to Insomnia before the ritual would take place. Noctis briefly wondered what caused such decision, but maybe the loyal Glaive decided to play his role of Princess’ bodyguard to the end of the whole affair. 

That night Noctis haven’t slept a wink. He sat on a balcony of his royal suite, watching the city. In a far-away distance he saw the outlines of Altar of the Tidemother where soon Luna would stand, reaching for Leviathan to come heed her call.

He wondered would Ravus be there too protecting his sister. Would he stay away after Noct’s own appearance before the goddess in his attempts to forge a Covenant?

His glanced at Imperial’s ships. Was Ardyn there too?

Suddenly he wanted to bury his head in his hands. What was he doing? He didn’t even know why he was here. Yes, for the Covenant, but what was the reason to meet Luna here of all places? She already awakened Titan and Ramuh, she could have done the same to Leviathan and then proceed her own journey.

So why? Why didn’t she say something besides her being safe and waiting for him? Why Nyx had that look on his face while speaking about her well-being?

How would he manage to prevent Leviathan from attacking the city as it was a real possibility she might? 

What was that part he missed so much, which would make him whole again?

All these questions and no answers for him. He could only close his eyes and hope he could get some after meeting Luna.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

He watched her making a speech and recognized her. She was taller now, wore a different dress and different hairstyle, but she was the same – a girl who read him books, held him when he cried for the last time, made him flower crowns and was there for him as long as she could.

She still was the same.

He smiled when she finished talking and nodded when she met his gaze among the entire crowd. She pressed joined hands to her chest and bowed her head – she greeted him as a King and it sent a pang of nostalgia through him.

He wanted to break through all these people and greet her properly. To say he missed her and that she grew up into a strong beautiful woman. He took a step, only to bump into the sight of her brother, Ravus, standing behind her in a shadow of the column.

Then Luna smiled at him one last time and walked away, with her brother following, leaving Noctis standing there with clenched fists. He couldn’t understand why his legs refused to move when he noticed Ravus, but he could guess.

A memory of that damned treaty stopped him. A treaty, which could have been easily violated and even broken if Empire learned who was responsible for Lunafreya’s ‘abduction’. Yes, this they won’t tolerate.

He told himself it was unwillingness to endanger something his father worked hard to make a reality that stopped him. A memory how his father swallowed his pride, shaking hands with his enemy.

Yet, deep inside, he knew the real answer.

He couldn’t let the treaty broke and make Niflheim their enemy once more. Because then he’d never see _him_ again.

He wanted to hate himself for these thoughts.

But he couldn’t.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

Noctis saw the moment Luna stepped on Altar – a small figure in simple white dress, with Trident in her hands – and the whole city held its breath. It still wasn’t breathing when the water gushed out in all directions and the Tidemother herself arose from the deep.

Noctis saw how she craned her enormous head to the sky and then lowered it towards lone figure calling to her. He saw how she listened—

—and took off when she struck.

He ran, and left his friends behind after the first blow.

He started warping after the second.

When Leviathan reared back, preparing for the third blow, his fingers grazed her scaled plating. And that was the moment a single Imperial ship above them fired its first shot at her too.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

She watched the goddess flailing in a whirlpool of celestial rage, raising water – her divine retribution – up to the sky, creating rains of salt to bring it down on people she deemed unworthy of her attention.

She clenched the Trident and ran towards the end of the Altar when a small figure reached Leviathan’s head, holding for dear life in never-ending dance of rant and rave.

Her knees buckled and she fell, and suddenly there was no air in her lungs, but it wasn’t the Tidemother’s judgment thrown upon her to bear. It was something she could no longer delay. Something even her powers couldn’t cure.

She bended over double, frantically gasping for breath, droplets of salt on her lips – not the ones from all that water around her only because they were red. Like droplets of wine, like petals of a flower, crushed under child’s palm, like last hues of sunset…

Like hair strands of the man before her.

Despite them never meeting before she knew who he was.

He sat on the edge of the Altar and watched her with serene smile. A smile that didn’t reach his eyes. There was no need to look into them to understand why.

She probably should have thought he was here to kill her, but she didn’t. Because they both knew she was already dying. There was no need for him to raise his own hand.

Yet he did, and reached towards her.

When she took it, she felt nothing, aside from how cold his skin was. His touch didn’t make her skin crawl, nor did it burn flesh, infecting her dying body with pungent obnoxiousness of Scourge’s miasma.

She couldn’t stop the touch of healing light, pouring from her palms’ every orifice, cascading on his cool skin. The light that caused his flesh no harm despite gods saying otherwise.

No, it touched him willingly, caressing his skin in a form of long-lost nostalgia. As if once this light belonged to him. As if every bits of the past she feared to think about were true.

And then her light stopped, dissolving back into her skin, as if following a silent order. She was not the one who gave it.

“You should save it for him,” he told her with that same smile that couldn’t reach his eyes. Because it tried to seem alive and life couldn’t appear in something long dead.

Suddenly the light returned, flickering around them in frenzied flow, and it took her great effort to lift her head towards the sky again and see how the great form of Leviathan dissolved into numerous lights only to disappear inside the body of a rightful King.

She cried when he started falling, but was unable to move a limb, because her body betrayed her. She could only watch his fall towards the ground and catch every second of it. Then his body warped, only to appear a few meters away, among the pieces of something that once was the Altar.

The light in which his body reappeared was purple.

She closed her eyes, letting out a short sigh – everything her lungs could process – and lowered her head down. Her forehead grazed the tips of the man’s fingers.

“Why I couldn’t help you?” she wheezed, and it took an effort too. When she looked at him again, his smile hasn’t changed a slightest bit. It stayed the same even when he answered in a sweet, light-hearted tone:

“Because I’m nothing.”

Before she was able to at least wrap her head around those words, he reached his other hand to the side and in another purple flash Noctis appeared before them. Luna gasped when she saw that his eyes were closed. She touched him and gasped again – his life-force felt like a mess, heart-rate unsteady and weak. It seemed he used every ounce of his power to form a Covenant which nearly killed him.

The man beside her said that she should have saved her power for Noctis, and now she understood why. And yet—

They were destined to become enemies – Light and Darkness – to cross their swords in battle with no winners or losers in a sole purpose to cleanse their Star from taint. So this man, who long ago stopped being mere human, should have been aiming for Noctis’ demise. 

There had to be hatred on his face when he looked at the person who was chosen by the gods to end his life. Yet there was nothing of the sort no matter how she searched, how closely looked, trying to understand, to see even a flicker of something close to it…

She failed.

He looked at Noctis and there was nothing on his face except that light, faraway smile.

She didn’t understand but she wanted to. If only her breath would return – if only her life could wait for a bit longer before slipping away completely. But blood on her lips tasted like ocean’s salt, like tears of a child in her arms, painting her white dress with dark-red droplets.

Her arms slipped out of man’s grasp when she reached for Noctis, cradling him to her chest with last bits of her strength. She wanted to be strong, to live a while longer and help him fulfill his duty – nothing was more important than this. Yet the time flowed through her fingers like water, tickling last minutes of her presence in this world.

A pale remnants of her healing magic surrounded Noctis’ body and she barely stifled a violent coughing fit when her lungs burned in agony of overuse. She glanced through the haze in her eyes at the man who was still sitting there – his golden-eyed stare lifeless and vacant, just like she would be soon.

“Why?” she mouthed with barely any sound, her trembling fingers closing around Noctis’ shoulders.

The man didn’t ask what she meant – he already knew the true meaning behind her words. She hoped and yet dreaded his answer. Maybe he would have said he was still waiting – waiting for his sworn enemy to reach his true potential. Maybe he was just playing some twisted game, before striking first blow.

Or maybe there was something else—

“He’s everything,” he answered and his tone was as light and even as his smile. “He’s all that matters.”

She couldn’t tell what took her breath away this time – her rapidly draining life-force, or his words. All she could do was collapse beside Noctis, touching his shoulder, while the last bits of her magic disappeared on his skin.

When she closed her eyes there was her garden of flowers, casted in sapphire hues of numerous petals. Yet there was one of different color among them – the one that never grew up in her garden again since the day the boy touched it.

Back then she never understood.

Yet she did now.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

When others reached the Altar, the sky turned dark-grey, flowing hard rain mercilessly down on those ones who dared to defy the gods. Ignis was the only person who paid attention to swarming MT’s who followed their High Commander here, while Gladio, Prompto and Nyx immediately rushed to check on Noctis.

Only to stop dead in their tracks at the sight of Imperial’s Chancellor, sitting near two prone bodies on the ground. Ignis could tell exactly what halted their movements at that moment – a sight of a simple smile on man’s face. Sweet and tender – it created a sense of vagueness; a horrible contrast to the scene all of them were witnessing.

Ignis felt cold chill up his spine just by looking at this smile. At the same time Imperial’s High Commander – Ravus Nox Fleuret – had no such feelings, only because his gaze was on his sister – Lady Lunafreya.

All of them saw pale flickers of light emerging from her hand into Noct’s shoulder, only to utterly vanish after a second. One not needed to be wise to understand the cause of it, with the way her white dress was splattered with droplets of blood, already dried on her lips and chin as obvious evidence.

It was Ravus who made a move first – he kneeled beside his sister, gathering her up in his arms, pressing their foreheads together. Rain soaked her dress and hair, splattering on deathly-pale skin, yet her face seemed content. As if she died in peace.

Ignis saw the way Prompto’s mouth opened, saw him faltering and lowering his head without making a noise. Gladio squeezed his shoulder, saying nothing for himself and Nyx… Nyx kneeled beside siblings. Ravus threw him a sharp look, the side of his face visible to Ignis twisted in hateful grimace.

“Don’t…” he warned, but Nyx barely paid him any attention. He tugged a small cloth out of his coat and slowly, tenderly started wiping the blood from Princess’ face. Ignis probably wasn’t the only one to notice a slight tremor in his fingers.

Ravus said nothing, nor did he try to push Nyx away. After a moment he stroked his sister’s head and bit his lip so hard it bled too. When Nyx finished, he moved back again, clenching now bloodied cloth in his palm, and only then Ravus spoke again.

“She could have lived,” he stroked Lunafreya’s face this time. “Could have been happy. I would have made sure of it. I tried to stop that wretched ritual, even if it meant killing a goddess. I was ready to blow every damn engine to protect her. Yet she’s here now and she’s gone forever.”

The scrape of his teeth made Ignis cringe.

“Because of him,” Ravus finished and turned to look at Noctis. This way everyone saw a bone-deep hatred, twisting his face into an ugly grimace.

It took him less than a second to grab his sword and lash out. Gladio barely had time to block it with his own weapon, grunting from the effort.

“Oh dear,” the Chancellor commented, cocking his head to the side with ever-present disarmingly sweet smile. He didn’t even move a limb the whole time, simply watching them all.

Ignis honestly couldn’t believe someone was _this_ heartless to stay unaffected by everything what was happening here. Suddenly he caught the way Chancellor’s smile turned slightly crooked, as if something amused him.

As if he heard his thoughts and found them hilarious.

That cold chill Ignis had before started creeping through his bones this time. A clash of swords jerked his attention back, though. Ravus snarled, pushing Gladio away and leaped to his feet, blinded by rage and in an obvious urge to kill whoever was in his eyes responsible for his sister’s sad fate.

He barely noticed her body slipping from his grasp and falling back to the ground. When she flopped on her side with a sickening ‘thump’, Ignis’ throat closed up.

“Wait, wait!” Prompto babbled, hands flailing, eyes wide. Ravus spared him no second of his attention – his own eyes were black with emotions, teeth bared, while he raised his weapon to strike again…

Only to be pushed back all of sudden. The force of a blow was so enormous that his body flew back a few meters, before colliding with a wall, tearing a strangled shout out of his lungs. Prompto gasped, Gladio cursed when the world around them flashed for a second with black and purple energy before disappearing without a trace.

Ignis didn’t want to even dare and think who among them was capable to raise such power. Yet when Chancellor stood up finally, there was no trace of that light around him, as if it came out of nowhere, like a mere force of nature.

Force of nature of the same color the daemons had around them.

The man, moreover, crouched down beside Princess, carefully easing her on her back. He touched the side of her face, as if checking for possible injuries from the impact. As if searching for evidence she hurt herself and was in pain now.

“She’s dead,” Ignis blurted, like those words were pushed out of him by the same blow that jostled Ravus away.

It was the first time Chancellor paid him attention – his golden-eyed stare focused on his face. The smile on his lips remained the same, if not tad gracious.

“I know,” he answered, as if it was evident for everyone.

“It was he who killed her!” Ravus’ strangled voice made Ignis jump. The man tried to stand up, gripping the wall, but his knees buckled every time. Eventually he fell on all fours, twisting his fingers in the dirt.

“The Covenants did,” Chancellor shrugged unperturbedly, glancing back at Princess. He carefully moved her wet strands from sticking to her lips.

“But she did it for him!” this time when Ravus looked up there was only grief in his eyes. Ignis couldn’t tell if his face was wet from rain or tears.

“Yes,” Chancellor smiled happily and this time it wasn’t only Ignis who shuddered from the way his face lit up with something close to joy. Prompto even took a step back. “Because we both know who he is.”

While Prompto took another step back, Ignis, against any better judgment, took one forward. He looked only at Chancellor this time, eyes tracing the outlines of his smile up to his eyes which were—

They were wrong.

“And can you tell us who he is then?” his own voice sounded reverent, as if an answer would be a secret no one ever dared to unravel.

Chancellor looked down at Noctis then and hasn’t taken his eyes from him even while answering.

“He’s everything.”

In that exact moment Ignis Scientia had a strange sense of déjà-vu. He was always proud of the way his memory worked, and barely forgot some important things no matter how old they were. He could have sworn he never met someone as precarious as the Chancellor of Niflheim before that night at Caelum Via. Yet a fleeting feeling that he did made his stomach clench.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hereby pronounce this chapter to be called "OUCH", so beware.  
> there are some bone-shattering fluff, some heart-wrenching sweet pain and some actions.  
> Thank you everyone for staying with me and leaving your kudos and comments!

When Noctis woke up, he was in his own bed. It smelled nice and felt soft just like it always did when he was small. Was it a proof that he finally started remembering something from his childhood? The way clothes felt, food tasted and—

Something was touching his hand – something cold yet familiar. He knew that coldness and welcomed it. He held it in his arms, refusing to let go. 

It would take one turn of his head and he knew what it was. He wanted – oh, how he wanted to make it possible! One simple move, one easiest command to his body and everything he once lost would be there with him again.

Yet in a blink of an eye the world changed. The cold from his hand slipped away and he wanted to scream, to chase it back, but it vanished as if it was never there before. He surged for it and there was a ground under his feet this time, strewn with flowers of different kinds. Beautiful and colorful ones yet he couldn’t appreciate the way they looked or smelled.

There wasn’t the one he needed the most among them. He searched for it frantically yet unsuccessfully but when he raised his head again there was a boy in wheelchair among those flowers, crushing something in his hand.

Something stuck in Noctis’ throat and he couldn’t breathe while looking at this boy. He wanted to call him by the name he perfectly knew, ask him why he did what he did, plead him to stop but there was no sound – no breath of air around them and nothing in his lungs too.

“I couldn’t help you,” a voice said and there was no boy anymore, no abundance of color except deep blue and a little girl near him in a simple white dress.

“You were lost,” she continued and her voice resembled a touch of wind ruffling sapphire petals around them. “Hurt so much that even my magic couldn’t help. Deep-rooted pain I thought no one could cure—”

Suddenly a sad smile appeared on her face which wasn’t one of a child’s anymore. It was a young woman before him, her hair long and free from all claps, her white dress flowing around her legs, long and vague, disappearing in waves of blue around them.

“I was wrong,” she touched one of the flowers and others vanished in an instant, falling in a sapphire void which opened its embrace under them. “I couldn’t cure the one that was never sick.”

He wanted to reach out and touch her hand, ask her what she meant, say that he missed her all these years and yet he couldn’t because there was no sound left in him. It left him, because a liar like him deserved nothing else.

A liar who missed something he couldn’t even remember more than a girl who helped him get better.

“I wish I was brave enough to understand it sooner,” she reached out her hand and flower floated towards him from her palm. He surged forward desperately only for something to tug him back.

A sad yet soft smile on her face was the last thing he saw before the void of sapphire color closed up under him while unbearable pressure yanked his body somewhere high. 

…When he opened his eyes again there was an empty room around him, a morning light coating it in pale hues and a single flower in his hand with petals of a color he saw only once before.

Deep red, like blood.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

It was Ignis who told him about Luna’s death in a gravely whisper, while others were sitting around, their faces grim, their eyes downcast. Noctis looked at his own clasped hands and simply nodded. They left him after that, probably thinking that he needed time to cope.

He couldn’t tell exactly what he really needed but that wasn’t what they expected. He knew Luna was dead even before Ignis said it aloud – he remembered a dream that wasn’t dream at all and the way his dear friend talked to him, looked at him only to slip away from him – this time forever.

Maybe he should have been feeling pain or grief or something of the sort that would show his devastation from loosing someone dear to him. But he couldn’t, no matter how hard he tried to make himself feel all of this.

All he could do was commit to memory a kind little girl from his past, while twirling a simple flower in his fingers. A flower that had no smell – only color of blood.

He knew this flower very well. The same one he crushed all those years ago in the garden of Tenebrae, only to see how shocked Luna was from his cruelty, from his anger aimed at an innocent flower merely because it resembled—

He punched his own leg with clenched fist, squeezing his eyes shut. It almost came back! It was there, on a tip of his tongue, yet it slipped away again.

 _It left him again!_

A chuckle bubbled up in his chest – when he let it out it sounded hysterical. There he was, thinking about flowers and something long lost instead of mourning his dear friend. Instead of asking the gods why they took her away. Instead of crying over her death, letting his emotions flow freely.

The room he was in started suffocating him, closing up on him and he wanted to breathe again, to be somewhere else, so he stood up and walked out on a balcony and suddenly there was night already around him with stars so big they threatened to fall on their land.

Noctis wasn’t opposed to this – he would have been glad if they did. Maybe Lunafreya became one of those stars and after falling back to earth she would return too.

As if that could have been possible.

He breathed ocean’s air before stepping back towards his room, only to be stopped by some sudden rustling under the balcony. When he looked down, there was some sort of hedge, crowing between their hotel and next building. Noctis looked at it closely for a moment and something between leaves blinked back at him.

He froze as if enchanted, while a dark form slithered its way out of bushes to curl on the edge of next building. Its red-eyed stare blinked at Noctis again and he shook himself out of stupor. The best decision was to summon his Royal Arms and annihilate the creature that same instant, but he stood there, gazing at the daemon which looked back at him with blood-shot eyes and didn’t move.

It should have been attacking him, yet it didn’t. He should have been alarmed by its mere presence, yet he was calm.

After a moment of this strange staring contest the daemon hissed quietly and dove back into bushes. Something ruffled for a second and Noctis saw its form curling around one of the nearest tree’s branches. Second tickled by and the daemon fell silent and unmoving.

Noctis returned to his bed then, making no second move to try and find this daemon again. For some reason he had no desire to kill it. His only wish was to lie back down and forget everything for just one moment.

The sight of a simple red flower in his outstretched hand helped him achieve it more than he even thought.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

He woke up with a shove and for a second couldn’t understand where he was. Then, while rubbing his face tiredly, he remembered.

 _Magna Fortia_ was currently taking him to Ghorovas Rift. His next destination, his next Covenant but this time without Luna to get ahead of him and wake his ‘next god’ up. Only this time it was goddess – Shiva, the Glacian – which, due to ancient texts Ignis once explored, was the friendliest towards the mankind among all of the Six.

Noctis sure hoped it was true and the goddess won’t fall into frenzy after waking up like her sister did. He sighed, clearing his mind from memories about Altissia for the time being, at least.

He threw a disinterested look at the window of their compartment – it was splashed with raindrops. Beside him Prompto fumbled with his phone, trying to get a better connection judging by his murmured curses.

“I can’t even say where we are now, because we’re like in a _hole_ ,” he complained frustratingly.

“You can go ask the train conductor,” Gladio assumed. He sat before Noctis with hands crossed and looked at the ceiling as it held answers on unnamed questions for him. Ignis was simply reading an old pamphlet someone gave them when they departed.

Nyx hadn’t followed them – he had his orders to return back to Insomnia and tell King Regis about everything that happened in Altissia. They departed on a train station that day and Noctis was with his ‘usual team’ again.

“Yeah, probably,” he saw Prompto scratching his head and slowly straightening up, then glanced back at the rain-stained window.

“It’s Cartanica,” he heard his own voice suddenly and three pairs of eyes looked at him.

“How do you know?” Prompto blinked and Noctis opened his mouth to answer that he asked the train conductor or probably even watched the schedule on the station of departure but the truth was he did neither first nor the second.

He couldn’t tell how he knew; only that he did.

“Dunno,” he shrugged and stood up. “I’ll go check the schedule on a station.”

“It’s raining there,” Ignis made a move like he wanted to stand up but sat back under Noct’s gaze. He couldn’t tell how exactly he looked at his friend but he was glad it worked.

“I think it’s somewhere inside the Cartanica’s station, don’t worry,” he turned towards the door. “I’ll be right back.”

Just like that he was out. The station seemed barren: no people, no sounds aside from train’s engine. Conductor told him they had fifteen minutes here but Noctis knew he won’t be taking too long. He just wanted to breathe in some air and clear his head, maybe.

A gut-wrenching feeling inside him made it a hard task. 

The rain stopped, but the sky seemed almost black with thunderclouds and the world stilled in frightening wait for another uproar of raging nature.

Noctis watched the line of benches, covered in puddles. He glanced at Cartanica at large, only to see how empty it seemed, as grey as those clouds above. Dead and wasted, as if the city had no hope left to come to life again.

When he looked back, one of the benches was already occupied. Noctis slowly walked towards the only one person except him who graced that miserable sight of a dying city with his presence.

Noctis probably should have felt surprised, yet he didn’t. Somehow he was simply glad.

“Hi,” he mumbled, and when Ardyn smiled at him Noctis slowly if not hesitantly reached out. Cold fingers touched his hand and the Chancellor of Niflheim, who shouldn’t have been there of all places, kissed the back of his palm.

A shuddering sigh escaped Noct’s lips, before he collapsed on a bench too, wrapping both arms around Ardyn’s shoulders. Face pressed against man’s neck, he inhaled deeply but no smell reached his nose, except ozone in the world around them. But he couldn’t care less when he squeezed his eyes shut and that feeling inside his gut, which threatened to tear his flesh and crawl out, snapped like a wire and left him in a rush. Noctis felt shudder coursing through him and then another one but way better this time when Ardyn hugged him back.

“Noctis,” his breath ruffled hair on the back of Noct’s head and a sudden pang speared his body like a strike of lightning. Noctis barely stifled a grunt, clenching his hands on Ardyn’s spine.

He felt like a child. Like a small child with hands too short, yet desperate enough to embrace an adult in his arms and let him call him by his name.

Who was that adult? It couldn’t have been his Dad, because Regis always felt strong when they hugged. But this vague, nameless person – who was he? The question _‘why they hugged’_ didn’t come to Noct’s mind then. It was obvious.

 _He_ was afraid and he had to protect _him_.

Ardyn hummed in his arms, as if answering to Noctis’ sudden thoughts, and placed his head on his shoulder. When Noctis carefully eased back, he saw that his eyes were closed, but his smile – soft and sweet like always – remained.

Noctis carefully touched the skin of the man’s cheek with the back of his hand and Ardyn let out something close to a soft purr. Noctis couldn’t help but smile too – this man, who held a top position in the Empire, who seemed so confident and whole, turned to billows of silk by simple touch.

It was Noctis’ hands which made him feel that way. It was Noctis who held his—

Was it too soon to think like that? If so why Noctis felt like it was already too late? As if they had so much time before but lost it due to some circumstances. It made his insides clench but not in agony this time. No, he was enraged that something could have torn them apart.

Someone.

 _‘Dad. Where is—’_

He grunted when his head felt like another lightning impaled it but slowly, meticulously this time, aiming for something dear to him. Something he grasped every time and every damn time it slipped through his fingers like water.

Even Luna did. He was unable to even take hold of her hand – a physical object, so what could have been said about something intangible?

“She’s dead,” he murmured and only then realized he did it aloud.

“I know,” Ardyn slightly nodded against his shoulder. His eyes were closed still, yet the smile hasn’t faded even after Noct’s words.

“I couldn’t help her,” he continued. Everything that resided inside him after Altissia started flowing out with those words. “She helped me once but when the time came for me to do the same for her I failed.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, baring his teeth.

“She thought we were friends yet she was wrong. I have no right to be called her ‘friend’ when she died for me while I did _nothing_ to prevent it. It’s better not to have friends at all then. I told her it’s dumb when two people came from different worlds, and eventually they were torn apart but she didn’t listen and I was right, I was right, I was—”

His breath hitched suddenly and a strangled noise escaped his lips. But that was all and Noctis hated himself even more for it. A friend he was! A friend that couldn’t even cry after Luna died. No matter how hard he tried his eyes remained dry.

As if he wasn’t feeling enough grief. Or as if he couldn’t remember how to cry anymore.

“She would have been upset to know that you have such thoughts,” Ardyn suddenly said after a bit of silence. When Noctis glanced at him there was molten gold staring back at him.

Another long minute of silence passed before Noctis spoke again.

“Ignis said you were there when she died.”

“Yes,” Ardyn agreed readily, still staring back at him. His smile didn’t change even a tiniest bit. Noctis carefully pressed a thumb to the corner of his lips, as if in need to _feel_ this smile.

“You came there because…” he began, but faltered. Thankfully, it seemed Ardyn understood.

“I wanted to save her. Only I forgot that I can’t do this anymore.”

Noctis felt a deep incomprehension raising its head inside him. He shook his head, touching Ardyn’s cheek.

“Why did you want to save her? Because she was important to the Empire? Your Emperor held her hostage and when my father’s Glaive took her to Altissia he was enraged, am I right? Because his _‘best bargaining chip’_ slipped from his grasp?” his words dripped with venom, which should have been scary, but there was a significant backlog of it inside him already and finally, _finally_ he let himself show it. Finally he let his frustration flow—

“She saved you once. I needed to save her back,” Ardyn stated in a simple voice yet it knocked all air from Noctis’ lungs. There was something in Ardyn’s voice – something like his own sort of incomprehension. Like he was really surprised someone thought he shouldn’t have wanted to save Lunafreya.

Not because she was important enough to be saved. No, Ardyn thought he should have done it for _him_. For Noctis. Because once, when Luna was a little girl, she saved him and now Ardyn—

Ardyn _owed_ her a great deal.

“Why?” he croaked and there were tears in his voice, which still weren’t on his face. His fingers trembled against Ardyn’s skin.

“If I saved her you’d be glad,” Ardyn’s face almost glowed with radiant warmth. His smile resembled a feathery touch of softest pillow. “I wanted you to like me.”

There was something in Noctis’ throat that blocked his breath, yet he wasn’t surprised when his voice came out in a soft reverent whisper.

“I already am.”

When they kissed Noctis drank Ardyn’s breath like he needed it to continue living. Maybe he really did, because after they parted he felt wrong staying away from his lips. That’s why he kissed him once more and then again. He kissed him until the world around them mattered no more and even then he proceeded.

When he slightly moved back, his breath was steady and strong more than ever. He kissed Ardyn’s temple, his hair, down his jaw, the side of his neck – starving for him as if without him there was no life. Like he was his main reason to exist.

“You are,” he whispered in frenzy against his skin, squeezing his eyes shut. “You are.”

“Noctis,” Ardyn answered against his neck, breath cold but soft, and a pang of hardest yet sweetest pain threw a row of shudders against Noct’s skin.

He loved each and every one. Because he loved _him_.

“Noctis,” the man in his arms called again and Noctis took his face in both hands, kissing his cheek with all tenderness he could muster, feeling himself on a verge of exploding with everything he _finally_ could freely feel.

“What is it, my love?” he breathed tenderly against his skin. “What is it?”

Ardyn let out a softest of sighs, placing his head on his shoulder again.

“I don’t want to stay here anymore,” Noctis heard his voice. If he didn’t know better he’d thought it sounded weak and fragile. But he never saw Ardyn being like that.

And yet—

“Come with me,” he took both his hands. “Let’s get out of here.”

Ardyn straightened slowly, as if waking from some sort of slumber, and looked down at the bench they sat on this whole time. His smile seemed slightly out of place and definitely different, but then he stood up and followed Noctis to _Magna Fortia_ which, blissfully, was still in place.

Have it really took only fifteen minutes for Noctis’ world to change so drastically?

They entered the nearest carriage – it appeared it was mostly empty, with a whole lot of free compartments but Noctis passed them all, before picking one. It was the same as others – the same as his friends were currently in, waiting for him – but somehow it felt different. Somehow Noctis wanted only _this one_.

He kissed Ardyn again and smiled down on him.

“I’ll go check my friends and then I’ll be back.”

Ardyn only smiled back and Noctis couldn’t help but kiss his brow, before quickly rushing to his friend’s compartment, already imagining the scolding from Ignis which waited for him there. That was a main reason he hasn’t heard another soft _‘Noctis’_ thrown at his back.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

He was a few meters away from his destination when train shook with violent impact. Noct’s back collided with corridor’s window so hard that it creaked. He grunted, trying to right himself and move forward but it was pointless after a second, when Ignis, Prompto and Gladio rushed out of nearest door.

Before one of them had time to say something, another blow shook the whole train. Metal screeched and the whole thing started slowing down sharply. Noctis bumped into Gladio, while Ignis barely had time to caught Prompto and right them both against a wall.

Then came screams – first distant but with each second they became louder and louder. The train kept slowing down, shaking violently from time to time. Suddenly Noctis heard weird recurring sound from above.

It resembled the sound of claws on metal.

“Out of the way!” he shouted, jerking Gladio to himself before the ceiling was pierced with black claws. Sharp black claws of daemons.

Prompto’s gun fired and the daemon shrieked but new claws appeared, tearing at metal. They tried to make a hole for themselves – Noctis guessed and was opposed _hard_.

His Royal Arms pierced the whole ceiling of a carriage and he cringed from daemon’s howls. Noctis didn’t have to ask his friends twice, they already summoned their own weapons like Prompto did and rushed to others parts of the train. There were people who needed protection – innocents who had no way to shield themselves against this sudden attack.

A horrible realization pierced his skull then and he threw himself in a mad rush towards the carriage he left only minutes before. Only to be stopped when the ceiling screeched above him and a large hole appeared, only to be covered by a huge daemon’s body.

Noctis felt something bubbling in his chest. Something he hadn’t felt in Altissia, but it was deep and ugly and hot. He bared his teeth, impaling the sword through creature’s skull and when it fell from the train it was Noctis who climbed through the hole outside.

Only to see a whole _horde_ of daemons attacking _Magna Fortia_.

A hot feeling snapped in his gut, infecting his whole body and in a flash of realization he understood what it was.

Rage.

He stepped forwards and the world turned into a mad whirlpool of black figures, flashing swords, violet substance coating his clothes, and screams – inhuman howls of those ones he crushed by his own hands. Because they were blocking him, trying to stop him when he had to move!

He couldn’t let them distract him. He needed to be there!

He couldn’t lose him. He couldn’t lose him _again_!

Strike after strike landed on monsters, dissolving them to nothing, clearing his way before there was the last one left. Noctis’ blade flew up and the monster’s eyes flashed with something close to hatred. They were white.

The daemon in Altissia had crimson ones. He didn’t touch him. He only wanted to sleep and for people not to notice him, letting him hide in the shadows till dawn.

That one was different. Somehow it was _different_!

Something hit him and he had only second before the daemon, which he faltered to kill, collided with his body again. And suddenly Noctis was falling, he was falling and the daemon fell too and he didn’t even had time to scream before horrendous pain made his mind explode and the whole world turned pitch-black.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

Noctis took him away. He had no sweets for him this time, yet Noctis came and took him away. He kissed him and hugged and said those soft words. He told him about _‘love’_ , but it was understandable.

Ardyn knew Noctis loved him.

Even though his hands were empty and he didn’t buy him sweets (he wanted to, but there was no place with them where it was before).

Noctis smiled at him and told him he would return soon. He just had to wait for Noctis and then he would come back. He definitely would, despite him preparing no sweets.

Noctis promised. He would come back.

So he waited Noctis to return.

He needed him.

He waited Noctis to return.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

Noctis had to come back. He promised he would come back.

There were no sweets but he promised.

He waited Noctis to return.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

He didn’t.


	23. Chapter 23

Noctis woke up with a strangled gasp on his lips and deep pain in his chest. For a second everything he saw was grey feculent color, but then he focused enough to understand – that was a ceiling.

He was in a room with grey walls, simple bed and few bookcases. It was cold and he was slightly cold too. Quickly checking himself for any injuries – after all, he fell from the train – Noctis jumped out of the bed and tried the door in a far corner of a room. He was surprised when it opened with a hiss. When he stepped out there was a clicking sound and three rifles were aimed at him in an instant. Empire’s MTs held them in their arms – faceless humanoids in identical masks.

Was he a prisoner here? But where this ‘here’ actually was?

He glanced back at MT, contemplating whether he should get rid of them with Royal Arms and try to escape this place or—

His train of thought faltered when one MT lowered its weapon, turned and started walking. Two others motioned for Noctis to follow. He clenched his hand, ready to use his weapon in case something went wrong, but followed.

They didn’t get him too far: few doors opened and then he entered a large compartment, as grey as his ‘room’ was but brightly lit. There was a whole wall with strange equipment on the left side – ten or so monitors with processing data Noctis had no desire to look closely at.

In the center stood a huge… thing with massive bulbs. All of them were empty but their wires connected to the central one – an enormous tube from floor to ceiling with something curling inside it in never-ending motion.

When Noctis stepped forward, he saw that it was some sort of black smoke with flashes of violet color. Only it wasn’t smoke at all and Noctis knew it rather well. It was an essence which daemons produced when they were ‘born’ in their sickening sort of way.

A taint to their Star Noctis would have to erase.

_Starscourge_.

It swirled inside that tube like a living creature – slowly, dangerously, in an ostensible sort of calm, but Noctis knew it could strike any moment. He knew how dangerous this ‘thing’ was. This ‘thing’ he should have hated to his very core.

He should have felt spite towards it, should have been disgusted by its mere presence near him, should have wanted to summon his Royal Arms and destroy this abnormality, this _smudge_ on the body of their precious Star.

He felt nothing of the sort.

No, for some unknown and probably alarming reason he couldn’t even name Noctis felt… deep, bone-crashing sadness. It drove him forward, towards this thing he should have hated yet couldn’t, hand outstretched as if in desire to touch, to soothe, to feel—

“Mesmerizing, isn’t it?” a low, throaty voice echoed behind him. When Noctis turned around he saw an old man with wrinkled face and hair as white as paper. One would have thought that he was frowning deeply if not for a smile on his thin lips. Blue eyes barely regarded Noctis at all, glued to the Scourge behind him.

“Such simple, I dare say minor thing, yet it holds the power within even gods can’t tame,” the man proceeded and it wasn’t the tone of his voice Noctis didn’t like. No, the look on his face, the gleam in his eyes – that was truly hectic. The way he looked at the Scroge as if he was one second away from falling to his knees, arms outstretched towards the deity he would give his very life to.

Of all the places Noctis could have landed he chose the lair of a madman. 

As if sensing his thoughts, the man looked back at him. His searching, _palpating_ gaze almost made Noctis cringe, yet he only raised an unimpressed brow at him and crossed arms over his chest.

“So you’re the Lucian heir,” the man suddenly said, as if confirming his own previous thoughts. “ _Noctis_ Lucis Caelum.”

The way he deliberately stressed out his name seemed strange, but Noctis only narrowed his eyes and said nothing.

“Noctis,” the man repeated meanwhile, rolling his name on the tip of his tongue. “I should have checked sooner. But I can’t say I’m surprised. Old rumors say your looks are similar to your country’s first king. Probably, that’s the case.”

It barely made any sense but something this man guessed right. Noctis recalled his Dad telling him from time to time he had Founder’s eyes and jaw, which, honestly, never made him really proud. So what if he slightly resembled the First King? He died centuries ago; probably there wasn’t any truthful evidence of how he really looked like. Either way Noctis couldn’t care less.

“Should I be impressed or something?” he droned skeptically. He already started guessing how much MT’s he could take down in one go and how far the exit was.

“Well, I doubted it was your arrogance you charmed him with,” the man continued unperturbedly like he wasn’t even trying to pay attention, solely focused on his own bizarre impression about Noctis. “But the way he behaved back then this possibility can’t be dismissed.”

Noctis couldn’t understand why his insides suddenly clenched but he shook his head and squeezed his teeth. This man was trying to get on his nerves by babbling utter nonsense, nothing more. The best decision was to get away from here as soon as possible.

“Look,” he threw a withering look at the man. “I don’t know who you are and what you want from me and don’t give a slightest damn. I won’t be excusing myself now…”

“I’m Verstael Besithia, Imperial Research Minister,” the man cut in and Noctis narrowed his eyes. Empire’s associate thought himself evident enough to abduct Lucian Prince and violate the piece treaty. He wondered whether Aldercapt was aware of it.

“Not so pleased to meet you. Goodbye,” Noctis snapped, turning away. He looked at the exit, inspecting three MT’s with narrowed eyes – nothing his Royal Arms couldn’t take care of and stepped forward.

“Noc…tis…” he heard then and the world around him _stopped_.

He hardly noticed himself turning around. Paid zero attention to an old man beside him or to tube with Scourge inside it. No, his eyes were on monitors now. Monitors which showed the same thing each.

A man, lying on his side on something similar to cold metal table. A man in white clothes. A pale man in grey room – colorless image if not for one thing.

Red.

This man’s hair was red – spilled like wine around his head. Framed his face which Noctis wanted to see so much. When the man shifted, two long strands of hair slipped from his face but Noctis didn’t need to see it closer to recognize.

_Wait._

The man turned towards camera – towards Noctis – and his golden eyes showed some effect in them.

They were almost sparkling.

_Wait._

Noctis looked at them and couldn’t breathe, but a child was mesmerized. He thought he never saw eyes of that color before. Even Iggy and Gladio had different, plain and simple, eyes. A child opened his mouth and Noctis took a step towards monitors.

There was no child on them. There couldn’t have been.

This child was in his head.

_Wait!_

The man looked back at him again. His face was twisted with emotions Noctis knew very well. Fear. Confusion. Fear. Pain. Fear. Fear. Fear.

_WAIT!_

“No…ctis…” a broken whisper echoed through the room from each monitor, piercing his skull, crashing his bones, spearing his ears, destroying, consuming, swallowing…

He squeezed his head but couldn’t close his eyes. Pain – deep and horrendous pain started tearing his body apart. He never felt something like that before. He never had this before. Otherwise he would have re—

It gripped him in its clutches, drowning him, tugging him from his body right into a void of color. Bright blue color he already knew and saw before. This color was the pain. This color destroyed him once.

It destroyed and crashed.

It tore _him_ away!

He pushed at the color and it eased back, let him go and he reached, reached up towards something else, towards something he was so weak to find all that time when it was there, right before him. When all he could do was touch it with his hand.

_Noc…tis…_

The pain pushed at his every bone. Crushed them in its deathly grip until there was no single one in him left whole. Until he was as broken as—

_Noctis…_

Until he was no more, until he dissolved into nothingness where there was no name, no color, no blue to haunt and mock him, no pain to destroy him and take something from him. Something that he—

_Noctis._

—loved so much.

He couldn’t name it, but it swirled inside him, growing and growing until he felt it consuming his every orifice, his every nerve, leaking from his eyes, trickling from his mouth, spurting from his hands and legs and mind and he wanted it out, but he wanted it back, because he wanted.

_Noctis._

He wanted.

_He wanted something he had before!_

A boy screamed and it broke every glass surface around him.

A man screamed with voice that had no sound and it broke 2000 years of agony.

Noctis screamed and the world exploded.

…with color he loved, admiring how soft _his_ hair was while he tried to comb it with his small hands…

…with sounds he loved, when _he_ called his name for the first time, with each passing day repeating it more and more until there were no pauses between letters…

…with hands he loved, that held him in a cold but soft embrace, letting him nuzzle against _his_ neck or chest while telling bedtime stories…

…with eyes of gold he loved, sparkling brighter than sun, which had no fear in them anymore when _he_ looked at him…

…with everything _he_ was, because he loved _him…_

…he loved him…

He wanted to see him smile. _He loved him._ He wanted to hear his voice. _He loved him._ He wanted him to be safe. _He loved him._ He wanted to know his name.

He loved him.

_Ardyn!_

Red and white and black and violet – it merged inside him and exploded in a rush of color he couldn’t even name and he wanted to scream again, but he couldn’t because he loved, he loved, he _loved!_

There, on a cold grey floor of an unknown place, Noctis Lucis Caelum _remembered._


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in updates!  
> Here's the chapter most of up were probably waiting for.  
> Thank you as always for your wonderful feedback!

He couldn’t scream when unrelenting hands started touching Ardyn. When they gripped, and pushed, and tore his clothes, his flesh, his hair. Ardyn had no voice to tell them to stop.

 _He still didn’t show him how to talk properly. He left it for later. After their return._

Noctis couldn’t scream when tubes were forced down Ardyn’s throat for days. Couldn’t scream when his skin was burned with radiation. Couldn’t scream when they took off his limbs, tore his teeth and nails out, violated, destroyed, gripped, touched, broke, broke, broke…

He couldn’t scream.

He lay there, on a floor in front of monitors which showed him non-stop images of only one person he shouldn’t have taken his eyes off. Something smelled awfully beside him – he vaguely remembered throwing up when Ardyn’s leg had been cut.

He couldn’t scream.

He didn’t know how much time passed. He didn’t look at his body or at the world around him. He lay on his side, head craned up and frozen and hadn’t once tore his eyes away from Ardyn.

He shouldn’t have ever done it.

He wanted to die. He couldn’t tear his eyes away and he wanted to die every time a man who looked like Prompto said _‘Noctis’_. Every time Ardyn stilled, froze and that unimaginable raw horror in his eyes turned to something else.

Something that could have been called ‘hope’.

He wanted to die. Every time Ardyn was left in a cold room on a cold metal surface and the terror in his eyes gave way to pain. Then his lips started moving.

“Noctis…”

He wanted to die.

Then everything started anew. Cold hands, tests, lasers, radiation, things he couldn’t even dared to imagine done to a person he should have been protecting. A person with now blank, vacant face as if he turned into a lifeless doll. A person whose skin didn’t broke from lazers, whose body released a black and violet smoke-like light, a person who made no move to stop everything done to him as if he was dead.

A man who stopped calling for him.

Ardyn stopped saying his name.

He wanted to die when man with Prompto’s face sniffed Ardyn’s neck. He wanted to die when he pried open his coat and gripped his skin. He wanted to die when he kissed his hair ends, tugging on them. He wanted to die when he started speaking. He wanted to die when he spoke about him.

He wanted to die…

…and the man called people with merciless hands.

He wanted to die…

…and he said “Repeat everything I just did to him then calculate the data; I need a reaction too.”

He wanted to die…

…when they tugged his hair, tore at his clothes, touched him, touched him, touched him…

He wanted to die…

…but more than that he wanted to…

 _Kill. Them. All._

There were eighteen monitors that showed him everything. When Mystic’s sword pierced the one on the right there were seventeen left. By the time Noctis stood up, wiping lips with the back of his hand, there was only one.

“As if this could wipe everything away,” the man snickered behind him. “As if it could rewrite everything you have done.”

Noctis turned to the man – Verstael Besithia, who looked like Prompto on these monitors, which showed filming dates of every video. A man who smiled, when Ardyn was in pain. Who touched him, broke him, tore him apart every day.

A man who had Ardyn for years.

A man who thought Ardyn was—

“He’s not yours,” Noctis said and didn’t recognize his own voice. It sounded wild to his ears. Foreign and filled with something that wasn’t there even before.

“Oh, but he was since that day in Cartanica,” Besithia smiled proudly, widening his hands. “And he still is. I found that shell he was then and opened it every day to find the treasure hidden inside. I made him into who he is now. He’s my creation. My marvel. My—”

One second he was talking and then stopped. Noctis even had time to wonder why when he heard gurgling sounds of someone struggling for breath. He looked down and there Besithia was, lying on a floor, face reddening and fingers clawing uselessly at two hands that closed around his windpipe, meticulously squeezing his life out.

It took Noctis another second to understand those were his own hands. He looked right at the man’s face – red from lack of air, with rolled up bloodshot eyes, with drool trickling from his twisted in grimace mouth. 

He looked and thought ‘Disgusting’.

“He’s not yours,” he repeated again in cool voice. He felt cold numbness in his own body, turning the look on his face in mask of eerie calm. “He never was and he never will be. He was afraid when you found him. He was scared and lonely because I abandoned him. I should have died the moment I took my eyes off him but I didn’t.”

He twisted his fingers even more in saggy, wrinkled skin of man’s throat, making Besithia’s eyes widen so hard they threatened to fall out. Noctis wanted to see how that would be; how he would look without them. He never saw someone’s eyes coming out of body – he could bet it was disgusting too.

“I lived and I forgot about him. I didn’t want to, but they made me. I don’t know who, but I hate them and I’ll find them too. But you,” he cocked his head to the side, “you are nothing. A scum that could only maim someone too innocent and pure to understand that he had a choice. That he should have been trying to stop you, to break free. Were you happy when he looked at you with that terror in his eyes? Hm?”

With every question he crouched above the man lower and lower, bringing his face closer to him. He eased his grip a slightest bit so the creature under him could look in his eyes. Besithia wheezed and did. Noctis saw the exact moment his wide eyes filled with something that should have been called ‘terror’ but was too strong for this word.

Noctis felt himself smile. He liked it.

“Were you happy when he pleaded for someone that never came back for him?” he squeezed again and the man’s howl died in his throat. “Were you happy telling him he should start hating ‘Noctis’? Were you satisfied you broke him?”

A smile slipped from his face and Noctis bared his teeth in an ugly snarl.

“I know you were. I saw it with my own eyes. And what do _you_ see now? Do you see them?” a high sound told him all Royal Arms started floating around. “They seem transparent but they all quite real, I assure you. You’ll feel them all after a second. I’ll plunge each and every one in that revolting thing you call ‘a body’ and you’ll feel everything before I’ll take them out and use one of my healing elixirs on you, closing your wounds, and then I’ll spear you with these blades again. I’ll repeat this again and again and again until you’ll beg for me to spare your life and only then I’ll cut your filthy tongue off, and this wound I won’t heal, unlike others.”

Besithia’s lips turned blue by that time, but he was still breathing and Noctis eased his grip again.

“No, no, you have to live, I don’t want you to die so soon, before tasting everything I have for you,” he shook him so hard the man’s head bashed against the floor. “Do you hear me? I won’t let you die; I won’t show you such mercy. Creature like you doesn’t deserve it. You don’t deserve to die because you had to feel everything he felt. Do you understand?! I’ll make you pay for it! I’ll make you pay for it!”

His voice echoed through the walls in a scream of horrendous rage and suddenly someone was tugging at his shoulders, trying to take him away and he lashed out because he couldn’t let this thing on a floor breathe freely, he needed to take him apart bit by bit just like he did to someone Noctis couldn’t protect.

“Calm down! Please, Noctis!”

“Buddy, look at us! Look here!”

“Stop it, let go, Noct!”

Voices called for him but he couldn’t answer them, he shouldn’t because he had no right to wear that name anymore. He had no right to call himself a ‘person’ because he couldn’t protect him and he wanted to die, _he wanted to die!_

Those hands tugged harder and they lifted him up, held him but he trashed and screamed because he had to kill that monster and he had to die because he was no better than this thing on a floor, he was even worse—

“Noctis,” a voice said and he swallowed his screams, stopped his struggling and looked – looked at the man in front of him with red hair and eyes like molten gold.

But he wasn’t _‘the man’_ , he was _‘Ardyn’_ and he smiled at him; like everything in the world was alright. Like they were alright. He waited so long to see him smile but when he finally did – Noctis wanted to cry.

So he did and since that day a long time ago in Tenebrae Noctis started crying again.

He covered his face with both hands and sobbed, tearing his lungs out with every sound. He cried like a child, who screamed in his father’s hands for someone he loved with all his being but whose name he didn’t even know. Like a child who screamed his throat raw for someone to return but he didn’t because he couldn’t find his way back alone. Like a child in blue void which reached for him but he tore himself out of it with a scream of agony, connecting his consciousness with someone he didn’t know at that moment. Like a child who became one with a man who suffered for far too long and broke his prison down when they felt each other only for that void to try and tear them apart.

Like a child who returned safe yet scared from that void but the man couldn’t and it broke him – hurt him in such devastating way he forgot who he was, losing even an ability to speak.

Like a child who vowed to protect that man and broke that promise even though the moment they first met he already loved him more than everything in a world.

Only to get him back again after all these years and stay blind till that very moment when he finally understood. When Ardyn looked at him with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes because they were utterly and completely _dead_.

When Ardyn touched him Noctis looked up with tear-stained face only to see that sweet smile and dead eyes again. All he could do was grip his coat with both hands and move his lips but no sound escaped.

He wanted to say ‘I’m sorry’ but the voice betrayed him, the world betrayed him, taking _him_ away. He wanted to beg him – beg him for something he didn’t know but his voice refused to come back and he could only open his mouth uselessly.

‘Ardyn’ his lips mouthed the only one thing that mattered. ‘Ardyn’.

“Yes,” Ardyn smiled down at him even brighter than before, touching his skin with the back of his hand. “That’s my name.”

He gently tugged him up and Noctis gripped his coat even harder, refusing to let go. Ardyn looked at him and his smile reflected love but his eyes remained the same.

“I know the letters now,” he softly assured him, smiling happily. “I can even show you my name. It’s okay, Noctis. I was here once and you didn’t know but you came for me nonetheless. You came back.”

Noctis said nothing to it; he only gripped him with both hands, tucking his head in the crook of his neck like he did a lot before when they still were together. Ardyn’s hands felt the same too when he held him back.

They came back.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

Besithia coughed and it felt like spitting his trachea out. He touched his throat, hissing from the burning of skin. Damn brat. If not for Adagium and those three appearing out of nowhere that bastard sure could have choked him to death.

Noctis Lucis Caelum.

 _‘Noctis’_.

This name brought back memories of past wonders when it gave him power – unlimited power over Adagium. The name he used freely, satisfaction growing inside every time after the man’s reaction. Of course, when Adagium fell into that catatonic state he stopped reacting to _‘Noctis’_ physically yet inner feelings undoubtedly remained the same.

Then he ‘woke up’ and Besithia stopped using that name on him. Even if he would have done it again, though, Adagium probably have controlled his reaction thoroughly. After some time Aldercapt met him and everything moved rapidly from there, that’s why Besithia barely remembered some ‘trigger’ word ever excited.

He was reminded again when Emperor came to Insomnia for piece treaty signing. There probably wasn’t a living soul in Niflheim that didn’t watch that broadcast from Caelum Via. Verstael, for his part, was impressed yet annoyed. He looked at those sybaritic Lucians, merrily living in their bright city, knowing nothing of the world outside. They were too noble for that and it made his insides boil.

Then he saw him – Lucian Prince, standing tall and proud beside his father. Noctis Lucis Caelum – and Besithia could admit he was rather impressed. Sun-kissed skin, hair the color of night sky and sapphire-blue eyes – this young man was gorgeous even for the least well-informed observer. And after a minute of silliest formalities between two Kings this young man saw him.

Besithia looked and observed and watched, noting even the most distinctive features and when, after a while, he understood the smile split his face in two. He let out a chuckle, a full-lunged laugh he rarely had any reason for. But now, this particular reason made him giddy with well-deserved joy.

Noctis Lucis Caelum – a living, breathing trigger for Adagium’s control looked at someone who called his name for months as if he never saw him before.

In that particular moment Verstael Besithia decided he’d have to meet this boy one day. And one day he’d show him _everything_ he missed. One day he’d break this Lucian ‘buttercup’ and it would be the best thing – since those months with Adagium in his hands – he ever had before.

It was a fortunate coincidence the Prince travelled by _Magna Fortia_ after Altissia’s… setback. Besithia personally unleashed his ‘puppets’ he worked so hard to create and it took them barely a few hours to reach the train and start tearing it to shreds. Prince fought them with all his Lucian magic and then he fell. Right into Verstael’s waiting hands – or rather the depth of his private Magitek engine which finally brought Prince to him.

Besithia rubbed his poor neck again, curbing his anger. Let this wretched Lucian pup escape now with his friends. Let him have his delusions about this ‘affair’ he had with Adagium (honestly, since when have those two had a relationship?). Besithia knew the real answer.

The monster had to break him one day – after all, Adagium’s whole life was built on hate towards brother who betrayed him. It was his main goal to destroy everything his brother created – an entire Lucian line.

Noctis and his father were only victims of his hatred – nothing more and Besithia couldn’t wait already to see by his own eyes—

“It would have been hardly an inspiring sight,” a voice commented light-heartedly behind him and Verstael very nearly whirled around only to come face to face with Adagium himself.

The man smiled at him as if he was glad Besithia finally noticed he was there. How long was he there?

“I must say I’m rather surprised yet still impressed,” Adagium waved his hand towards the broken monitors which hissed and spitted small bits of electricity. “You’ve recorded all of that so meticulously, with such scrupulousness – this must be respected.”

Verstael narrowed his eyes at this sudden display of compliments but Adagium seemed unperturbed by his apparent skepticism, moving his gaze towards broken screens again.

“Though, I had no choice but to admit that not every data was authentically accurate,” he let out a sigh, shaking his nead. A look he gave Besithia was filled with chagrin as if Adagium was suddenly disappointed in him.

It made Verstael clench his teeth, a pang of hot anger flashing through his body.

“What are you–” he began only for Adagium to click his tongue at him with that same disappointment.

“That Monday when the laser tried to cut my hand but broke down it gained some reaction indeed,” he tapped his lip for a second thoughtfully before his face lit up with undoubtedly proper answer he searched for. “It was slightly ticklish.”

Besithia opened his mouth only to close it after a beat of silence. Adagium looked at him with radiant smile and head cocked slightly to the side.

“You…” Verstael wheezed, as if his windpipe was blocked again. “You remember?”

Adagium blinked at him, raising his brows in surprise, before letting out an amused chuckle.

“Oh, but of course I do,” he declared cheerfully and suddenly he wasn’t standing anymore. He was moving with that smooth and liquid way of walking he was so good at. “What, were you confused by the way I behaved since that day you found me? Rest assured, my physical appearance might have been a bit… how do you say it… ah, eccentric, right,” he snapped his fingers. “But my mind is the same. It always was like that.”

Besithia understood he was stepping backwards only when his back hit a wall and he jumped from the sudden impact. Adagium’s smile turned a tad amusing again, he took one last step and stopped, looking down on him.

“I need to thank you,” he purred, touching Besithia’s cheek with the back of his middle finger, making him shudder from how cold it felt. “You helped me become _‘Ardyn’_ and for that I’m deeply grateful.”

He took a step back then and gave a flourish bow, pressing a hand to his heart.

“I can’t say the same about him, though,” he announced suddenly, reaching his hand to the side and a young man came out of his back.

A young man with Besithia’s face.

“You must remember a child that was stolen from your facility, right?” Adagium’s smile was so sweet it let a taste of rotten fruits on Verstael’s tongue. “Those thieves were from Lucis, you raged about it for days.”

A cold shock of realization hit Besithia and his whole body froze.

“I couldn’t understand how they managed to breach the security code…” he began hoarsely but couldn’t continue.

“Oh, they tried to open that door so hard but failed every time. So I opened it for them,” Adagium shrugged with bashful smile. “You never said something about wanted or unwanted guests.”

“I’m the child,” a young man said suddenly and his face was cold when he looked at Besithia. “My name’s Prompto Argentum.”

Verstael was sick and tired of this game of nonsense and riddles already. His neck hurt, his teeth scraped, he was angry, mad with need to tear something or someone apart, irritated, filled with hate and…

Scared. Oh, all the Empire’s ice, he was scared.

“Good,” Adagium purred and there was something predatory in his crooked smile. Something Besithia couldn’t even dare to think about.

He placed a monster in the cage but it never was confined.

“So what now? You’ll kill me then?” he held his chin up. He won’t show his fear; he couldn’t let this creature feast on it. “Or he’ll do it instead?”

He turned his baleful look at the boy who thought he was something beside an object of science. The boy who cringed and turned away from him suddenly, gripping a pistol in his hand till his knuckles turned white.

“Kill you? Why?” if he didn’t know better he’d thought Adagium was honestly taken aback by such blatant statement. He even pressed a hand to his heart, as if wounded.

It was all a ploy. Nothing more than false pretenses. He could smile all he wanted, charm his way through the world as he pleased – yet everything was a lie.

His eyes were dead.

“Oh, no,” Adagium was beside him again and Besithia sucked in a sharp breath against his will. “I already said I’m grateful and what’s the best way to pay someone for their help?” his smile was sweet and gentle again. He lowered his head: a cold breath against Besithia’s skin made all hairs on his body stand. 

“To give them a present,” Adagium’s soft, honey-like voice contrasted with icy-cold touch of his lips to Verstael’s cheek, piercing his whole body with agony.

He couldn’t move, he couldn’t breathe, he could only squint with wide eyes at monster whose breath still ghosted against his neck. Adagium’s face was mere inches apart from his, cheek almost on his shoulder and eyes like molten gold.

They were not just dead.

An end of everything was in them.

Primordial nothing which once was there where worlds started growing. It opened before his eyes swallowing everything, not to mention something as minor as his being and Besithia saw it then. This ‘nothing’ – the cradle of worlds ready to consume them all in one go.

Bigger than universe, with no borders or shapes, infinitely bottomless, nameless, colorless… too unspeakable and great for an insignificant grain of sand he was to even try and put it into words.

Nothing spread before him like a wings of creature he couldn’t name, with no shapes but enormous like everything behind the borders of existing. It took him but it didn’t make him nothing too because he wasn’t worthy of this privilege, crushing him to ash that was too irrelevant to even become part of it…

…glancing at him with eyes of gold before erasing him like he never existed before…


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was very important for me to write, so I hope you'll like as much as I do.  
> Thank you everyone for your wonderful feedback!

Noctis woke up from sudden lack of air. He jumped up and clutched his chest but his lungs worked normally, breath full if not slightly erratic. A hand suddenly touched his shoulder and he jerked his head up.

“Easy, easy,” Ignis soothed, while sitting beside him. “How do you feel? You calmed down?”

“I…” Noctis stammered, eyes roaming around. They were in a room of dark-grey colors, he was in bed and it slightly buzzed under him. As if there was an engine somewhere below.

Wait, that meant they were flying? But he couldn’t remember boarding an engine. No, last time he was on the ground. He was—

“Where am I?” he stammered frantically, a bone-crashing horror making his insides scream. He started moving, trying to get from the bed, but Ignis’ hold on his shoulder intensified. “Where is he? Let me go, I need to find… I need to find him, _let me go!_ ”

“Noctis, Noctis, calm down, please,” Ignis tried to reason, gripping his shoulders with both hands but Noctis barely heard him, trashing and trying to jump from this damned bed, open every door and find _him_.

He couldn’t lose him again.

He just couldn’t.

“Oh, hey, buddy!” Prompto’s voice joined them after a hiss which probably indicated that the door was opened. “Noct, it’s me, Prompto.”

“I know who you are!” he snapped, pushing Ignis away and bolting from the bed. “I remember everything!”

“Noctis,” Ignis stood up too, palms up. “You need to calm—”

“I don’t want to calm down!” he growled. “Where are we? What is this place? Where is—”

The door hissed again and then there were another two people in the room with them. Gladio, whose face was clouded, but Noctis barely glanced his way because the other one was Ardyn. And he was smiling at him – living, breathing, radiant and _there_.

A strangled noise escaped Noctis’ throat and he reached out desperately. He took a step and Ardyn met him mid-way, letting Noctis grip him with both arms in a tight embrace. Noct clenched his teeth, burying his face in Ardyn’s cold neck and his sigh came out more like a whimper but he couldn’t care less.

“You weren’t there when I woke up,” he chocked, too much words blocking his throat. “Don’t do that next time. I don’t want to wake up without you anymore.”

He moved back only a slightest bit, unwilling to let go of Ardyn ever again. When their eyes met Noctis wondered how Ardyn saw him now. What state he was in before his eyes? Was he as desperate as his voice sounded? He surely felt like that.

“Where were you?” he asked worriedly, fingers burrowing into lapels of Ardyn’s coat and loppy parts of his hood.

“I was at commander’s deck,” the man’s smile turned slightly amusing as if he was pleased but nonetheless surprised by Noct’s sudden questioning. “Had to give some orders.”

“Orders?” Noctis repeated automatically; the truth was he didn’t give a damn about any kinds of orders Ardyn could have given. All that mattered was that he was there with him.

“Oh, to plot a new course,” the man intoned and Nocis blinked at him in confusion for a second or so before Ignis cleared his throat somewhere behind his back.

“His Excellency kindly agreed to take us to our next destination,” he explained when Noctis turned towards him but still in a circle of Ardyn’s arms. “Moreover…” he threw a strange kind of gaze at Ardyn then quickly glanced back at Noct. “He picked us up from Magna Fortia and helped find you. Apparently he knew where you were.”

“Apparently,” Gladio scoffed on the left. Noct saw that his Shield had a deep frown on his face, arms crossed so tightly that muscles on his tattooed biceps started bulging.

“Speaking of which…” Prompto pointed out as if to cover Gladio’s sudden gruffness. “Noct, are you all right?”

This raised a good question. Was he really alright?

“When the train finally stopped and we got rid of daemons we started looking for you,” Prompto’s voice had an echo of worry in it even after a while. “One of the passengers’ said he saw a man we described falling from train. Imagine the state we were in after hearing that! If not for—” he stopped, throwing a cautious look at Ardyn.

“It appeared the Chancellor was on this train as well,” Ignis continued for him.

“What a fortunate coincidence,” Gladio added, voice as dark as the look on his face.

“It wasn’t a coincidence,” Noctis explained, shaking his head. “I asked him to take the train with me. We’ve met when it stopped in Cartanica…”

“Just like that?” Gladio raised an unimpressed brow. “And what exactly was he doing in as barren place as Cartanica is now _at the same time_ you came there?”

Noctis opened his mouth to instantly argue but it was Ardyn who spoke instead.

“I was waiting for Noctis,” he simply declared, face unbothered, smile dazzling. But his eyes… Noct’s heart clenched every time he saw that dead stare.

“Why?” Gladio bristled, tearing Noctis out of his grim thoughts for a second.

“Because I had to,” Ardyn raised his own brows slightly as if surprised someone didn’t understand something so plain and evident. “The train stopped but Noctis slept so peacefully he barely noticed. I was taken out and then I had to find sweets for Noctis. I did but Noctis wasn’t there when I returned. He wasn’t there sometimes before but I waited for him and he returned every time. I waited that time too but Chief Besithia came instead and he took me away,” he sighed as if disappointed in that fact. “It took some time but finally I met Noctis again. We had to part ways every time though, so I thought that if I waited for him again Noctis will come and find me permanently. And he did,” he smiled at Noct then and it was filled with such awe Noct’s heart clenched.

Or maybe it already did after Ardyn started explaining.

When he looked back at his friends they were wearing the same kinds of expressions on their faces: worry.

“Noct,” Gladio called cautiously, hands slightly raised. “You’d better come here, to us.”

An anger and frustration flared up in Noctis’ stomach and he clenched his fist, turning to his friends. His other hand gripped Ardyn’s coat in a crushing hold.

“He’s not crazy,” he snapped but that made their stares become even more suspicious. “He waited for me in Cartanica, because it probably was that very place where I lost him.”

Ignis suddenly touched the side of his head as if it started ringing from their rather pointless conversation.

“Noctis, please, would you kindly explain—”

“You don’t remember him too, do you?” Noctis asked out of the blue and Ignis’ brows rose above the brim of his glasses.

“What are you talking about? He’s the Chancellor of Nif—”

“He had no name back then,” Noctis quickly glanced at Ardyn but he seemed unbothered by the prospect of Noctis telling his friend everything he remembered. Oh gods, he finally _remembered_!

“He had long hair and stayed in a room closer to mine and was afraid by everything except me. My name was the only word he could say but he didn’t do it when you met him. No, mostly he was scared and gripped my hand and I helped him get breakfast and when the water sloshed down his neck—”

“I gave him a towel,” Ignis slowly finished, eyes wide and voice hoarse. He looked right at Ardyn and a horrible realization of sudden recognition slowly spread all over his face.

“Iggy, what the fuck?” Gladio huffed exasperatedly, throwing his arms up but Ignis was still looking at Ardyn when he answered.

“I’ve met him before.”

When a silence buzzed in the air around them like a tight string it was Ardyn who tore it with light-hearted voice.

“I guess it would be best for us to sit and finally talk.”

And they did.

Noctis mostly did all the talking, revising every part of memories which were locked away deep inside him for so long. When he recalled another detail, a shudder ran up his spine and he clenched Ardyn’s hand for support. The man smiled at him every time their eyes met, Noctis swallowed all blocks in his throat and continued.

After all, Ardyn was his strength to revise it again after being deprived of it all these years.

To say his friends were shocked was an underestimation. When Noctis stopped talking the silence stayed for so long he started wondering should he be the one to break it or not. Ardyn was silent too the whole time, only smiling when their eyes met and looking totally relaxed as if the talk they had was about weather.

Noctis couldn’t help but think about all those things that Nif scum did to Ardyn that led him to wear that mask of fake sweetness. He wanted to reach inside him and take out the real one but maybe that man was long gone already. Noctis failed him and after years of harassment Ardyn couldn’t take it anymore, turning into someone new. Who couldn’t be harmed, at least on the outside, and whose emotions disappeared completely, showing only those ones he had now.

But despite that Noctis felt they were real. Despite those smiles which contrasted with painfully dead eyes, Ardyn was still real. Not the one Noctis met those years ago but a new person, yet still the same nonetheless.

“So…” Prompto was the first one to clear his throat. He rubbed his neck, glancing up at Noctis uncertainly. “Does this mean… You’re both…”

“Yes,” he replied without hesitation and his friends reacted slightly differently: Prompto just looked down, chewing on his bottom lip, Ignis started rubbing the bridge of his nose and Gladio frowned even harder.

When Ignis at last cleared his throat Noctis already knew what he was going to say. And that made his insides clench in a mixture of pain and anger.

“Noctis,” his advisor looked right into his eyes. “You do understand that he’s a Chancellor of Niflheim, don’t you? What you’re implying here…” he made a pause, looking down at his hands. “It’s a matter of national importance—”

“Is it?” Noctis snapped, narrowing eyes at him. He automatically clenched Ardyn’s hand but the man didn’t even flinch.

Ignis let out a long exhale, rubbing his palms together. Judging by the look on his face he preferred not to have this sort of conversation at all but Noctis couldn’t care less. His friends started it first. They wanted answers – so he’d give them ones.

“I imagine Emperor Aldercapt would be strongly against it,” Ignis carefully began but before Noctis could answer Ardyn did it for him with the same easy and radiant smile.

“Oh, he won’t mind.”

Ignis threw him a hard and suspicious stare but quickly looked back at Noct again.

“ _Your father_ would be against it,” he tried to reason, stressing first words as if to describe how mad exactly Regis would be.

“I’ll deal with my father _myself_ ,” Noctis stressed the last part too, glancing back at Ignis with the same tough expression. Thankfully his advisor decided not to push the topic or Noct’s patience so far – he just shook his head as if showing his steadfast disagreement but said nothing else.

Gladio and Prompto exchanged looks both and chose to stay silent about the awkward for them topic too.

“If that’s settled,” Noctis changed the subject finally, “I’d like you to leave me alone with Ardyn for a while—”

“Absolutely not,” Gladio interrupted even before he had time to finish. In answer Noctis leveled him with a stare.

“He’s not gonna hurt me, calm down.”

“Noct, there’s no way—” Prompto joined but Noctis felt himself like a frayed wire for a while already. He would have had none of this shit anymore.

“I trust him with my life _as much_ as I trust three of you to respect my decision,” he deadpanned in a gravely low voice. “Now, please, leave us alone before I say something all of us will regret.”

Judging by his friends’ faces it took them a great effort to stand eventually and walk out of the room but he was glad they did. And he was glad they said nothing while doing it. When the door finally closed he buried his face in Ardyn’s shoulder with a heavy sigh, clutching his arms with both hands.

“They are concerned about your safety,” Ardyn keenly commented, touching his cheek with the back of his hand. Noctis caught it and kissed.

“You’re not a threat for me,” he believed in every word that escaped his mouth as if they held an honest truth each. “And even if you would have been—”

“I wouldn’t,” Ardyn stopped him with a finger to his lips this time. Noctis kissed it too. “I’m not. I can’t even imagine something like this…”

“I know,” Nocti smiled against his hand with soft feathery feeling creeping through his bones. “I remember how you were those years ago when we were together. I was too small to understand you were suffering…”

He clenched his teeth against the pain of knowing they were separated for so long that he eventually _forgot_. Why did he forget him? When he already loved him so much?

“I wasn’t suffering,” Ardyn gently argued with a smile that could have melted all ice in Niflheim. “Because you were there.”

“And yet I couldn’t help you,” Noctis retorted and hatred towards himself seeped inside him like venom. “I couldn’t even catch your hand before you were taken away from me.”

“You were a child then,” Ardyn reminded him gently and, before Noctis tried to argue, he stroked his cheek with the back of his hand.

“I’m not anymore,” he turned his head into Ardyn’s palm, nuzzling the cold skin. “I won’t repeat my mistake again. I’ll protect you no matter what.”

Ardyn hummed contentedly at that, radiating such warmth it made Noctis insides burn, but at the same time his skin stayed paradoxically cold to the touch.

“But you don’t have to,” he shook his head after a while of comfortable silence. “You saw those recordings – I can’t be harmed anyway.”

For what was worth Noctis wanted to wipe out those months or maybe even years of tortures Ardyn was subjected to. To turn even memories of them into nothing but ash, making up to him by creating new happiest memories.

He wished it _was_ that simple in reality.

“And yet they hurt you nonetheless,” he quietly said, taking Ardyn’s hand and squeezing it tightly. “I know they couldn’t break you skin, I know the damage couldn’t have been seen, but… it was done to you. I feel it now like it’s mine as well.”

“I don’t want you to hurt because of me,” Ardyn’s smile slipped from his face finally. Now he looked like he was half-empty (because of his eyes) and half-concerned Noctis could have been feeling pain.

It was Noct’s turn to smile soothingly, stroking his face with both hands.

“It’s okay, my love,” he murmured. “I’ll take your pain away—”

“You can’t,” Ardyn pressed his face against Noctis palm, his dead eyes closing. “You’ll get infected with the Scourge.”

The _Scourge_. A smokish light of black and violet. A miasma, tainting their Star. Power which created daemons.

And Ardyn as its source.

Noctis heard Besithia’s conclusions about him on those recordings well. He saw the way Ardyn’s whole body flared with the Scourge and he saw the way it returned back into him. He knew he could regenerate. He knew why his eyes were gold. He knew he was the Scourge incarnate. He saw and heard the word _‘Adagium’_ countless times on those recordings.

He loved the man who was spreading the Scourge onto their precious Star which Noctis needed to cleanse with his life. He didn’t know how yet, but he knew it was important. More important than his life or every other life in the whole world.

But not as important as Ardyn was to him.

So Noctis couldn’t care less for anything except him. He would make sure this man would be safe and only then would he gave his own life for their star. Strictly in that order or the whole _‘cleansing’_ thing would need to go straight to the Underworld.

 _I won’t betray him again. I’ll protect him with my own life._

“I want to ask you something,” he started quietly and Ardyn hummed against his palm as if giving permission. “When we’ve met that day at Caelum Via… why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I’m nothing,” Ardyn replied simply, straightening a bit and looking at him with those dead, _dead_ eyes. “Noctis hates me when I’m nothing. I don’t want Noctis to hate me so I had to become something. Ardyn – is ‘something’, Noctis doesn’t hate him. Ardyn couldn’t have said he was nothing once, otherwise Noctis would have started hating him again.”

Up to this moment Noctis couldn’t help but think how severe the pain Ardyn endured during those months in Besithia’s facility was. He dreaded even to imagine it. Now he didn’t, though.

Because he was sure he felt the same one after hearing these words.

He _needed_ to tell him it wasn’t like that. He needed to say something at least but couldn’t. His throat stopped working at all; his mind became a screaming mess… his eyes stung.

“I’m something now,” Ardyn repeated, reaching for him suddenly. “Please, don’t hate me…”

But he didn’t – _he didn’t_! He had to make his stupid throat work; he had to squeeze those letters out even if it meant tearing them from his mouth with chunks of his own flesh. He had to tell him. He had to _tell him_!

“I love you,” he whispered. It wasn’t something he intended to say but it was _everything_ he really wanted to tell. “You’re everything to me. You always were – since the day we first met. You’re not nothing, you never was. I love you.”

He touched his face again and kissed his cheeks, his eyes – fervently, tenderly, pouring everything he felt through every touch of his lips which were murmuring _‘I love you’_ with every kiss.

Ardyn said nothing – he smiled instead. It was filled with fragile happiness and Noctis started tasting it too. He had a feeling he could stop eating or drinking at all from that moment. He would survive on Ardyn’s kisses anyway.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

It turned out they were heading at Ghorovas Rift – it appeared Ignis was the one who decided to tell Ardyn to take them there. Noctis was glad he did that, otherwise it would have been problematic to travel there by train because of a freezing cold which ‘greeted’ them when they stepped out of the engine.

Prompto’s teeth started clattering instantly while Ignis rubbed his palms and breathed on them. Even Gladio – toughest one of them all – winced, tucking his head and murmuring something unintelligible but undoubtedly depreciative.

Noctis’ every bone shared his friends’ predicament which couldn’t have been said about Ardyn. No, he seemed relaxed, cheerful (which hasn’t reached his eyes no matter how Noctis wished it would) and totally unaffected by devastating weather.

Just as a woman standing on the railways not far from them was. Despite how long it has been since their first meeting Noctis recognized her as Gentiana – the High Messenger – who lived in Fenestala Manor and looked after Luna when she was small.

She hasn’t smiled at him when he approached but inclined her head slightly. Her eyes stayed closed just like when he saw her for the first time.

“King of Light,” she greeted him and her voice resonated in the air like a chime of myriad ice crystals.

Was it the Covenants he already had that told him the truth or something else he couldn’t say. But the moment her voice froze the world around them anew he recognized who she was.

“We had to meet as your duty commanded,” she told him, stepping closer, never once looking back at her true yet massive form reposing in white infinity. “Yet you came before the time for meeting drew closer. Brought here by _him_.”

If that was possible the temperature dropped even lower. Noctis heard his friends’ grunts but his focus was solely on the Glacian who still stood before him in her human form but this time her eyes were opened.

She was looking at Ardyn as if she was one second away from freezing him to death. Noctis already guessed from those horrible recordings an actual death was out of the question yet he couldn’t take such risk either way. But before he even had time to step between them Ardyn’s smile turned affable and sweet.

“King of Light comes for something even gods can’t deny,” when Glacian spoke again there was a hint of resignation in her voice and she looked back at Noctis. “It should be given to you as Prophecy says.”

Before any of them could reply to it she spread her arms and her body started shining. Noctis barely had time to shield his eyes before Gentiana disappeared in a flash of icy-blue light and Glacian’s true form appeared before him.

And by the gods, she was _colossal_ with her whole covered in frost body towering over them. When she lowered down a bit, her size diminished too but she still was almost three times the size of Magitek engine which brought them here.

She reached her massive hand towards him and he reached back, touching her pale-blue skin. He felt the pinch of ice and then snowflakes started drifting in the air around them all before they surged at him in a flow and disappeared in his chest. And just like that the Covenant was forged.

“Soon the blessing of the Six will be with you, King of Light,” she inclined her head towards him but he had no time to answer because Ardyn spoke for him.

“Oh, but the correct version is ‘Five’,” he pointed out and his smile never faltered even when eyes of the goddess flashed dangerously.

“Spare your whims, _Acc_ —” she began but he waived his hand in the air and the ground under Noct’s feet rumbled, only to start hissing with clouds of steam coming from it.

No one had time to ask what that was before another gigantic figure appeared in front of their eyes from a burst of black and yellow flame. Noctis took in long brown hair, orange eyes with flames dancing inside them, skin partially tanned partially grey and a peculiar ‘crown’ of long and twisted horns. There, now, he looked at another Astral who, as legends said, should have been dead, resting peacefully at the top of Rock of Ravatogh.

Ifrit – the Infernian – was neither looking at him nor at one of his kin. No, his blazing eyes were locked on Ardyn who glanced back with charming smile.

“How…” Noctis was at loss. “Was he staying here all this time too?”

“No,” Shiva’s voice sounded behind him and the amount of grief he heard in it was almost palpable.

“Niflheim found him at the Rock of Ravatogh,” Ardyn readily explained and regarded Ifrit with another bright smile. “They brought him at their base where he met me.”

“You _demonized_ him,” Shiva thundered above them, her icy rage creating a whirlpool of snowflakes around both of her hands. Noctis heard his friends gasping yet couldn’t move a limb. He stared at Ardyn who seemed completely unbothered by the raging goddess before him.

No, he only smiled at her in that gentle and sweet sort of way.

“I did,” he admitted easily. “I’m the Scourge,” he raised his hand slightly and slowly turned it, looking at purple and black light that danced on his fingers.

Noctis heard a clicking sound behind and glanced back only to see his friends preparing their weapons. He didn’t tell them to stop but he knew he would prevent any fight that might happen here. He won’t let them be harmed and he won’t let anyone harm Ardyn as well.

“The Scourge contaminates,” Ardyn proceeded saying calmly, smile staying soft. “I can only infect, yet once I was capable of something else.”

He looked back at Ifrit and it appeared they had some sort of quick wordless conversation, because the god suddenly crouched before him, lowering his head. But before Shiva, undoubtedly enraged by this sight, made a move Ardyn placed his hand on one of Ifrit’s horns.

Nothing happened – no light shined, no magic flashed in the air around them. And yet the grey of Infernian’s skin started slipping away… right into Ardyn’s arm. And Noctis could only stand there and watch, paralyzed by horror, how the skin of Ardyn’s hand turned grey with black veins.

“Stop it,” his voice came out in a rush and he took a step forward. “Stop it now!”

Ifrit let out a deep rumble from the depths of his now cleaned chest and rose back to his full height. Ardyn lowered his hand and smiled back at Noctis – the skin of his arm was totally fine again.

“What have you done?” Shiva asked in a voice calm and serene. Her eyes stopped resembling ice-crystals ready to strike when she glanced at Ardyn.

“Made Five into Six again,” he explained cheerfully as if talking to mere human. It seemed he was unbothered by the fact that there were two literal gods before him.

Shiva said nothing to it – instead she glanced up and straightened her body to its full height. Her frost sleeves flapped lightly around her body while she raised her hands and floated through the air towards Infernian. When she touched him the ground rumbled again – quieter this time. When he touched her back – the ice under Noct’s feet cracked and the feeling of freezing cold started subsiding.

“Tales of the past and hopes for the future are manifest in the King of Kings,” Shiva’s voice resounded around them and this time it resembled a tiniest chimes of droplets of melting ice. “The Frostbearer’s and the Pyreburner’s blessings shall be his.”

Just like that Ifrit spread his massive hand towards Noctis and when the tip of clawed finger touched him, the light of the color of flame flashed so brightly it almost lit up the entire sky. Noctis felt something hot residing in his chest for a fleeting moment and in that very second his next Covenant was forged too.

Flashes of orange surrounded him and the world suddenly turned black only to flare up again, showing him a golden field with strangely black starless and cloudless sky above. He reached to touch one yellow spike, only to feel someone behind him and turn around.

And someone was there indeed – someone with face that resembled his own so much he barely believed it. This someone was smiling but Noctis couldn’t say he liked it. This smile was twisted in a dreadful sort of way.

The man with his face was smiling at someone beside him, but when Noctis tried to see who that was the world flashed again and the field was back, but now it was covered with flowers – white as Glacian’s snow. A woman stood among these flowers in a dress as white as their petals, and her hair resembled the color of spikes he saw before that.

A man who wore his face was beside her – they talked. They talked and the wind was blowing between them, tearing white petals and throwing them in Noctis’ face. Yet he looked and tried to hear.

He saw how woman turned and he sucked in a breath because she resembled Luna so much and yet was different at the same time. She looked at the man and Noctis looked too and the man was smiling…

…and Noctis wanted to wipe that smile off his face. He wanted to surge forward and say something, do something only to prevent everything that this man would do.

He needed to stop him. He needed to _stop him_!

But just like that the world shifted around him and the ground opened under his feet and he was falling in an endless pit with hands frantically reaching up because no, he couldn’t leave now, he had to prevent _that_ from happening, he had to stop the man who wore his face because he knew it was important—

It was more important than his entire life!

Yet the world slipped away from him only to return again in a crushing wave that left him speechless and boneless, and with a distant voice that resembled icy crystals echoing in his head.

 _‘Go home, King of Kings. The last journey awaits you there.’_

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

That night they didn’t go anywhere, only boarded the engine and sat together in a ‘guest room’. Probably everyone wanted time to think – except Ardyn, of course. When Noctis glanced at his face he saw only the same sweet and easy smile.

That very moment he promised himself to take matter into his own hands. He decided they’d have to figure out how to help Ardyn be alive again. And yet – if they failed – Noctis knew that everything he felt won’t change no matter what.

No matter what awaited them in the end of this road, Noctis was determined not to let go of Ardyn’s hand even again. He looked at the one in question and felt a strong urge to touch it. To press lips to these knuckles and stay like that for a long time.

“Noctis,” Ignis called out of the blue. His advisor’s face seemed tense enough for Noctis to frown immediately. “Can we talk?”

Before Noctis had time to ask, Prompto spoke too. His face was strange – probably because Noctis never saw such determination in his friend’s features before.

“It’s about me,” he clarified and when Noctis slowly nodded, Prompto slipped one of his wristbands off. 

Noctis looked at a barcode, clearly visible on his skin. When he tore his eyes away, Prompto was still looking at him and there was fear in his eyes. Noctis said nothing to it – he just slowly nodded again and probably there was something on his face that Prompto didn’t expect to see, because that fear slowly morphed into slight awareness.

Then he started talking.

Gladio was the first one who placed his broad palm on Prompto’s shoulder. He said nothing and Prompto said nothing in return, only halted a bit in his speech but resumed it again. When he stopped for a moment again, it was Ignis who touched his other shoulder, giving him strength to proceed.

After he finished, it took him a whole minute to meet Noctis’ gaze and when he did Noctis saw the way his throat bobbed up and down anxiously.

“Look, I understand it’s quite unsettling to know…” Prompto started rubbing his own wrist, eyes darting here and there. “Me… being, you know…”

“You’re my friend,” Noctis knew his own face was as serious as his voice. “That’s everything that matters to me.”

“But I…” Prompto’s gaze fell on a barcode. “I’m not…”

 _‘Not a human’_ – this, probably, was what Prompto tried to say and Noctis was ready to start proving the contrary when Ardyn suddenly took the floor.

“Ah, but I can assure you that you’re quite human indeed,” he smiled convincingly. “Chief Besithia cloned his, I dare say, children in his own image while being definitely a human specimen himself.”

Prompto’s face wore an expression of true cautiousness when he looked up at Ardyn.

“When my…” he paused for a second. “My parents got me out of there… was it… I mean, that man said you were…”

“I was the one who helped them get you out, yes,” Ardyn easily confirmed. That made Ignis, Prompto and Gladio look at him with matching dumbfounded expressions.

“Why?”

“I thought you were on that guy’s side, considering you’re both Nifs,” Gladio noted, crossing his arms. 

“I’m most certainly not,” Ardyn assured him cheerfully, flashing bright grin and waving his hand in the air. Noctis saw how Gladio made a face at this sudden behavior but hasn’t commented. “Your parents,” he glanced back at Prompto again, “were Lucian spies. They infiltrated Chief Besithia’s facility, seeking every data they could find about his researches, which, I suppose, disturbed His Royal Majesty King Regis significantly.”

“And that’s where they found… me,” Prompto’s mouth twitched as if he wanted to make another of his lopsided grins but failed. Noctis saw the way he gulped again and stood up.

Prompto blinked at him in surprise when he approached but Noctis just crouched before him and slapped his knee. He let his palm linger there for a long moment.

“I’m glad they did,” he told him in all seriousness. “I’m glad they found you there and got you out. I’m glad they brought you to Insomnia and raised you to be a man you are now.”

Prompto opened his mouth to say something but closed it. He looked back at Noctis with eyes like saucers as if he couldn’t believe in what he saw. Noctis smiled at him.

“I’m glad I’ve met a shy blonde boy that day at school, though he should have been braver and come at me right that moment,” he cocked his head to the side, raising one unimpressed brow and Prompto huffed a short breath – almost like a laugh. “I’m glad he found me worthy of his friendship even though I was… a complicated person back then.”

“Wha…” Prompto jumped, grabbing his hand that still rested on his knee. “Noct, I…”

“I want to say that I’m happy to call you my best friend,” he finished, curling his fingers around Prompto’s palm. “And nothing could change that.”

When the silence after those words became totally unbearable, Noctis cleared his throat but Prompto, at last, beat him to it.

“That’s like… your longest speech I’ve ever heard,” he confessed, his face still wearing a dumbfounded expression. Noctis raised another brow, squinting at him, and was just about to protest when a chuckle escaped his lungs instead.

And just like that – the dam was broken. Prompto started chuckling too, with Gladio and Ignis puffing out their own breaths beside him. Noctis only smiled, still crouching near them. He stayed there even when Prompto’s chuckles turned into hiccups and he covered his face with the back of his hand. He stayed and gently patted his knee and Prompto’s other arm squeezed his other hand in crushing but warm grip.

When Prompto’s shoulders stopped shaking, he looked up at Noctis again. His eyes were dry, slightly red at the corners but his smile – oh, his grin was back again. Not as broad as before and a bit waver but it appeared nonetheless.

“Your nose is running,” Noctis pointed out after a second, eyes gleaming, and Prompto shoved his shoulder with a grumble but without loosing his smile.

Then he slapped his own knees and jumped up, stretching up with a groan. Noctis straightened up too and Prompto flashed him another quick grin.

“Honestly, buddy, I’m starving,” he announced. “Last snack was only on a train. Is there some sort of… er, kitchen in here?” he threw Ardyn a cautious look.

“There is a separate compartment for there purposes,” the latter agreed with a small nod. “Third door down the corridor.”

“Great,” Prompto clasped his hands.

“You three go first, I’ll join you later,” Noctis said, turning to other two and Gladio immediately straightened up while Ignis narrowed his eyes.

“Noct…” he began, but Noctis only shook his head at him.

“Everything’s fine, go.”

He saw the need to argue on their faces – he knew they both wanted to do it right that moment. Yet there was another important knowledge: they respected his wishes. So they did it this time too. Sure, Ignis gave him a long stare on his way to the door and Noctis held no illusions about whether or not he would come back soon to check on him. Yet he left, taking Gladio and Prompto with him and for that Noctis was glad tremendously.

When Noctis turned back all he saw was Ardyn’s smile and it took him less than two seconds to cross the distance between them. Ardyn was still sitting and Noctis took advantage of it, circling his shoulders with both arms and pressing their bodies together. Ardyn’s cheek rested on his stomach and he caught the exact moment his whole body relaxed as if some heavy weight dropped from his shoulders.

“Are you alright?” Noctis kissed his hair lightly and Ardyn answered with a soft “Mhm,” which made Noctis only tighten his arms.

“Are you?” Ardyn asked then suddenly. Noctis blinked in confusion, looking down at him when Ardyn slightly eased back. “You were angry.”

It didn’t take a genius to realize what he was talking about. Yet it made a painful clench reside in Noctis’ stomach.

“Yes,” he agreed, fingers twitching against the back of Ardyn’s neck. “I was enraged. I wanted to kill that man.”

Ardyn cocked his head to the side, and despite his eyes still being dead there was such raw, painful confusion on his face that Noctis felt like a small child again – who looked at the man Ardyn was back then.

“He hurt you,” he added after a pause. “And yes, I know you said that you can’t be hurt, but it’s not like that. What that man did to you,” he felt himself growing anxious even thinking about it, “was inhuman. If only you had known then that you was able to stop it—”

“I’ve became ‘Ardyn’ then,” Ardyn noted and sounded so genuine that Noctis’ heart clenched. “I was able to meet you again after that.”

“No,” Noctis shook his head and stroked the side of his face. “Even when you thought you had no name. Even when I thought I’ve never seen you before. You always were _Ardyn_.”

Ardyn said nothing to that – he just looked and he wasn’t smiling too. No, there was uncertainty in his features and Noctis couldn’t help but wish it would have appeared in his eyes too. Yet it didn’t.

“Do you trust me?” the question came as a surprise even for him but Ardyn was already nodding.

“Yes.”

“I trust you too,” he pressed their foreheads together for a moment. “We found each other and we’re together now. It’s everything that matters to me.”

He straightened up again and started stroking Ardyn’s hair. It was as soft and beautiful as back then, all those years ago, and he couldn’t help but smile in awe.

“You know, I was thinking about your hair when we’ve met again,” he confessed and Ardyn cocked his head to the side with a light smile on his lips.

“You were?”

“Yes,” Noctis resisted the urge to scratch the back of his own head. “I kept wondering whether it was long once,” he touched one soft strand, caressing it between his fingers. “I was remembering you, because you were never truly gone from me.”

“So…” Ardyn looked as if he was surprised by Noctis’ words. “You want me? As I am?”

“Of course,” Noctis took his hand, squeezing it tightly. “Why would you—”

“I’m the Scourge,” the way he said it was unsettling. As if he truly thought he was beyond saving. “You’re a King of Light,” that same painful confusion appeared on his face once more. “I don’t know how I know it, but I do. I know _they_ should have blessed you and they did and—” he looked up at Noctis again. “You can’t want something like me.”

Noctis didn’t hesitate before touching his face and look at him with all seriousness he was capable of.

“Listen to me,” he said and his voice sounded a bit strange. As if it matured in a blink of an eye and was no longer a voice of twenty-year old guy. “I know that you’re the Scourge and I honestly don’t care. I loved you when you held it inside yourself and I will love you still no matter what. No one will take you away from me ever again. No men, no gods…” he paused and let a small smile appear on his face, to ease the tension a bit, “not even my own friends if they decide we’re taking too long here and barge in with intention of dragging me again.”

Ardyn just blinked at him.

“They won’t.”

“How can you tell? Oh, you don’t know them,” Noctis raised his brow pointedly but Ardyn just simply answered as if his words were obvious.

“I stopped the time for us.”

“Yeah, you once did,” Noctis grinned, stroking his hair all over again. Ardyn kept looking at him, slightly confused, and Noctis smile slowly dropped. “Wait. You _stopped_ the time? Like, for real?”

“Yes,” Ardyn answered as if it was a common thing for everyone to do, like, two times a day. He cocked his head to the side at Noctis’ shocked expression. “I stopped it when destroyed Chief Besithia’s facility once.”

Noctis frowned inadvertently.

“You shouldn’t have,” he grumbled. “Should have blown up that sick bastard in one go.”

When Ardyn only looked at him with incomprehension, Noctis sighed, touching their foreheads again.

“Nevermind, just being a brat here.”

Suddenly Ardyn moved closer and placed his head on his chest, tightening his own arms around Noct’s body.

“You’re not,” he said softly. “You are the world.”

Something blocked Noctis’ throat – something as tight and big as the thing that dropped into his stomach. It was hot and it burned but he loved each and every lick of that inner’s fire. He welcomed it, embraced it, stirring that pot to create a bonfire that would swallow the whole world.

This fire raised its flames inside him when he strangled Besithia. It swirled inside him, curling and purring like a coeurl, whether he had Ardyn in his arms. But this moment there was something else that started fueling those flames.

“I’ve lost you in Cartanica,” it wasn’t a question this time, just a simple statement. “And when I remembered it, I wanted to ask you _‘Why’_. I won’t do it. That would have been a wrong question.”

Seconds of time that stopped moving created a silence Noctis didn’t want to break. Yet he had to. He had to know, even if he knew already.

“Was it my dad?” he murmured in a soft silence of that room and Ardyn didn’t answer. Nor did he raise his head to look up at him. He just stayed snuggled closer and his breath was soft and even.

Yet his fingers twitched as if he wanted to tighten his arms around Noctis even more. As if everything he wanted was to clench those fingers in a fabric of Noct’s shirt and never let go again.

Noctis felt it like it was his own need and could only hope Ardyn wasn’t feeling everything that was happening inside him. He wished Ardyn was oblivious to the roaring flame that burned Noctis insides, this time bringing only pain and anguish.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is for the love of my life Wooden Deer.  
> I hope you'll like it, my love! Thank you for being there for me in good and bad times. Thank you for urging me, for motivating me, for believing in me.  
> I love you! United we stand! ^^

Noctis didn’t really know what he was expecting, but Gralea was… simple. No dark skies above with crashing lightning, which would have to illuminate this tedious landscape in quick flashes of bluish-white color. No monsters howling on tops of buildings like gargoyles hiding in caves of highest mountains, waiting for a careless wanderer to peek inside. No twisted, ugly structures of buildings with mad scientists lurking inside, coming up with their twisted plans for world domination. 

It was just a city. A grey and plain one, though – even dull in some sort of way. There was a disturbing lack of natural vegetation – Noctis couldn’t see even a small bush somewhere but, once again, they were floating through the sky too fast for him to have the chance to look closely.

The sky above was grey and stormy. It almost matched the expression on Gladio’s face. Almost.

“Tell me again,” his Shield rumbled a lot like a thunder that was yet to come. But Gladio was doing its job perfectly. “Why is it a good idea?”

“Ardyn needs to handle something here,” Noctis sighed for the hundredth time.

“I have a good guess _what exactly_ ,” Gladio hissed, throwing a hard look towards the man in question who was standing near the consoles and checking something. As if sensing his gaze, Ardyn raised his head and smiled brightly, which had an opposite effect unfortunately: Gladio only became more suspicious – if it was actually possible, of course.

By that time Noctis wasn’t even trying to persuade him. He was glad enough that his friends made no moves against Ardyn despite arguing with Noctis about his life choices constantly ever since they left Ghorovas Rift.

“We’ve discussed it already,” he crossed arms over his chest. “I trust him.”

“Well, you may be a fool, but I don’t,” Gladio retorted, fixing him with a stare. Noctis glared back and they were exchanging invisible ‘lightning’ for a whole minute or so till the engine began to descend.

When the ramp started opening at last, Ignis moved closer to Noct, while Gladio and Prompto stood at his other side.

“I hope you—” his adviser began but Noctis only looked at him and it was enough for Ignis to fix his glasses with a sigh. Noctis wanted to thank him for this but he didn’t have time because the ramp finally opened and a cold wind gushed inside.

Noctis looked at Ardyn briefly but the man was already strolling down the ramp. They had a small talk before departure when Noctis said he will follow Ardyn to Gralea if it was the place he needed to go to. If Ardyn guessed the implication _‘I won’t let you out of my sight anymore’_ he didn’t show it, but the smile on his face was soft.

Noctis followed him outside too, with wind blowing hair in his face and his friends silently following him behind. Meanwhile, Ardyn was already talking with a woman in black and red garments. She was watching him with arms crossed and stare unimpressed, her long silver-blond hair floating around her head.

When Noctis stopped not too far from them, her gaze snapped to him immediately. He watched her raising a brow, giving him a quick once-over before glancing back at Ardyn again.

“Let me guess,” she drawled in a slightly dry voice. “Tourists?”

Noctis could see Ardyn’s profile and nearly groaned when the man just beamed. The woman pressed her lips together at that but waited.

“My guests,” Ardyn explained pleasantly and raised his palm towards Noctis. “A highest ones. This is His Royal Highness of Lucis, Noctis Lucis Caelum. And this, Your Highness, is Aranea Highwind, Commodore of Niflheim’s Third Army Corps’ 87th Airborne Division.”

Noctis slowly nodded, while Aranea regarded him with narrowed eyes.

“What is Prince of Lucis doing here, escorted by the Chancellor himself?”

“Oh, it’s just as you said, Commodore,” Ardyn clasped his hands in delight, shining instead of the sun that still was hiding behind clouds above them. “This is a simple tourist trip. Shall I explain the details?”

She fixed him with a quick stare before sighing and shrugging her shoulders.

“Whatever, in any case it’s not my business to demand answers, _Your Excellency_ ,” she stressed out his official title but Ardyn behaved like he’s not even heard, smiling brightly. “You should probably go straight to Emperor then.”

“Then let’s not keep His Imperial Majesty waiting,” Ardyn decided cheerfully, and just like that they departed.

The place they were currently entering (while standing on its top) was called Zegnautus Keep, and from what Noctis learned while studying information about Lucis’ old enemy, it was a flying megafortress and, at the same time, Niflheim’s largest magitek laboratory. The last thing was confirmed by Ardyn when he told him about a place he needed to visit.

From what he saw, the whole thing was huge indeed and gave him a creeped out feeling. He wondered how was it possible for someone to live in a place like this, with its dark and empty corridors they were currently walking through.

It seemed someone lived indeed, because soon they entered living quarters and that’s when people started appearing. Someone passed them, quickly nodding at Aranea and practically _bowing_ to Ardyn – a few people even quickly muttered _‘Your Excellency’_ before rushing past them.

More often they stumbled on MTs and Noctis’ gaze darted towards Prompto every time, but his friend seemingly held his composure. He met Noctis’ gaze at times like these and tried to smile – it was a little bit shaken yet genuine. 

The dorm room they finally stopped at was thankfully empty of any people or MTs. Aranea tapped a door jamb with her fist.

“It’d be better you and your friends wait here for a while, Your Highness,” she suggested and Noctis practically felt how Ignis, Prompto and Gladio immediately tensed up. Unfortunately, Commodore Highwind was too sharp to miss it. “Relax, boys, no one’s gonna lock you in here,” she narrowed her eyes at them but her lips twitched in a hint of a smirk.

“I believe, Commodore Highwind has a point,” Ardyn chimed in, voice light and smile soothing. “It won’t take long for me to settle some issues here and return, so please, feel yourself at home.”

“I sincerely doubt we’ll heed this advice,” Ignis commented drily and Noctis was on his friend’s side in this. He knew Ardyn didn’t lure them into a trap but the whole situation was far from amicable.

“We’ll wait here,” he decided nonetheless, yet the stare he gave Ardyn was steadfast. “I just hope it won’t take too long.”

Probably Ardyn could have only smiled at him again – in that light-hearted, _fake_ manner he always used. Noctis knew he won’t do that and he didn’t. He smiled indeed but it was faint and unreadable thing.

Like a promise.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

When Noctis said that they would wait, he meant it. He didn’t mean they would wait in the same place, though. That’s how he decided to stretch his legs – not that he really intended to examine their location closely. Just the whole waiting thing was grating on his nerves. He needed a distraction from thoughts that flooded his brain after Ardyn was gone.

A distraction from an urge to throw himself after him, just to make sure they won’t loose each other again. Like in his childhood, he couldn’t stand being away from Ardyn anymore. He only wished he was as brave as that child back then, which warped towards his goal with intention clear.

So there he was, stretching his legs indeed, after making sure his friends would stay behind and let him have his time alone. Of course, they tried to argue as soon as he stood up and _before_ he even told them of his intentions. For a horrible second or so he wanted to snap like a tight string, which broke from all tension. 

He was glad he didn’t but even more he was glad that Ignis read his face correctly and asked him in a slightly wary tone to be careful and not go too far. A grumble ‘I’m not a child’ was on the tip of Noct’s tongue, but he swallowed it, nodded and was off quicker than his brain came up with some shit again.

He expected to calm down that maelstrom currently raging inside him. What he didn’t expect was entering a chamber with some kind of metal bridge, suspended in the air, which ‘ended’ in a large square platform. There, on that exact platform, stood none other than Ravus Nox Fleuret himself and that was _definitely_ something Noctis didn’t expect.

Ravus visibly startled when he spotted him standing there, but a moment of surprise was quickly replaced by something else. Some shadow over his face, a dark glint in his eyes – it could have been seen even in the tight line of his lips or hard set of his jaw.

Noctis thought it was close to _hatred_.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Ravus snapped without preamble, his mechanic hand clenching against his side.

Noctis only crossed hands over his chest.

“It’s not exactly a place I’d like to stay longer.”

Ravus face twisted into grimace nonetheless. He looked ready to attack any minute – if not physically then with his words at least. That was exactly what he did.

“So, this is it?” his eyes resembled two slits of pure hatred and Noctis resisted an urge to turn away. That was not the unsmiling yet kind boy he once knew – time wasn’t kind to either of them. “You came here now, to seize power together with your new _friend_?”

That last word he all but spit into his face, but Noctis didn’t care. He turned fully at him, jaw set tightly, and shot back in a stern, yet calm voice.

“I don’t care what you’re implying here, but keep those delusions you’re clearly having to yourself.”

“Why should I?” Ravus openly sneered, eyes flashing. His whole pose was as intimidating as he sure intended it to be. “Knowing that man, it was just a matter of time before he got rid of Aldercapt finally.”

There was clearly some hidden meaning behind that implication and Noctis didn’t like it at all. Ravus was talking about Ardyn like he was some kind of traitor, plotting something like revolution. Frankly, Noctis thought it was possible and it didn’t bother him. He never cared about Empire and after Tenebrae the only thing it deserved was a downfall.

Yet Ardyn said it won’t take him long to ‘settle things in here’ – it seemed, revolution was not on his list of things. But Aldercapt… Noctis couldn’t help but think about Ravus insinuation – was Ardyn really here to kill his Emperor? And if he was, what for?

He glanced back at Ravus only to see his sneer gone – now he just looked simply angry. And yet, Noctis had a suspicion that feeling wasn’t directed at him only.

“Shouldn’t you be there then, protecting your suzerain?” he asked slowly, with no intention to mock or take a dig at the man before him.

“He’s not my king!” Ravus snapped anyway, as if Noctis’ words burned his very soul. His eyes flashed and he took a step forward, but Noctis stayed where he was. He had not tried to summon Royal Arms for protection either. “He never was,” and this time the hatred in Ravus voice was definitely meant for Aldercapt. “I’ve had only one person I’d bended the knee to, but it’s too late now.”

It was as if those words let _her_ spirit appear between them for a fleeting second, but both of them were denied a privilege to see. They could only feel – and those feeling were the same for them both.

“I’m sorry,” Noctis said after a long beat of silence and he meant every letter in those words. At times like these he hated himself as much as Ravus clearly did.

“Don’t,” the latter hissed, metal hand digging in the rails beside him, making them creak. Noctis suddenly remembered father telling him how Ravus lost his arm. Regis learned that information from their spies and it made Noct’s stomach clench when he heard how Ravus tried to protect his mother and sister from monsters, which were invading his home and how one of those monsters simply chopped off his left arm.

The news they received that time, about ‘Prince and Princess being unharmed’, seemed awfully unreliable. Noctis looked at high-technology prosthesis Niflheim gave to a man he once hoped he could one day call a friend. He looked and there was only sadness inside him.

“If it wasn’t for you—” Ravus’ teeth scraped so hard it probably hurt.

“Yes,” Noctis agreed and man’s head snapped towards him again, eyes overflowing with desperate rage. Noctis knew that feeling – he experienced it once himself, but then a young and kind girl helped him. She wasn’t there anymore to do the same for Ravus. “She’s dead because of me and not a day goes by where I don’t think about how she gave her life protecting me that day. If only she never saved me that first time, in Tenebrae, all those years ago…”

Ravus was looking at him now with strange and conflicted emotions on his face. Noctis honestly couldn’t understand, was it hatred still or it made way for something else. His intention wasn’t in making Ravus forgive him or something. He knew it wasn’t possible anyway.

They both knew and yet—

“She evoked the gods for you,” Ravus slowly stated and this time his voice seemed a bit calmer. There was more pain to it than anger as well. “It was impossible to stop her once she had made up her mind. I tried to talk her out of it, but she hadn’t listened. That was so like her.”

His mouth twitched, forming something quick and bitter and Noctis had to look away this time.

“She believed gods have chosen you as the King of Light,” this time his voice was deathly calm and composed and when Noctis gazed back he saw that his face matched too. “She was your Oracle and she helped you to forge those damned Covenants. No matter how I wished for one of those gods to kill you, they chose your side instead too.”

Suddenly he narrowed his eyes.

“He’s not your friend,” those words felt like a whip. “You’ve seen his power, I guess you did. He’s not your friend if you claim to be a King of Light. He’s your enemy and you should hate him.”

He couldn’t understand why those words stabbed his chest like a spear. _Hate_. According to the will of gods, that was the only emotion he should have been already feeling towards Ardyn. Because of the Scourge in his veins; because of the fact that his mere existence tainted their precious Star.

If it was indeed like that, then Noctis was more than ready to let this Star’s light diminish. Whether it was tainted or still shone brightly, he couldn’t care less. Nothing would make him hate Ardyn. Nothing would—

 _Please, don’t hate me_ , Ardyn said not so long ago as if he was sure Noctis would and it terrified him as much as everything did back then, when Noctis was still a child and Ardyn still had no name.

Noctis couldn’t even begin to imagine what prodded Ardyn to ask him not to do it, but his imagination planted some options quite helpfully. And they made his blood boil, blowing up his brain. Because he remembered some whispers that scum of a man did on those recordings.

 _Noctis hates you_.

Suddenly, he was back in that compartment, before they reached Ghorovas Rift, and Ardyn was in his arms, looking up at him, with no smile on his face and eyes dead and empty.

 _Please, don’t hate me_.

Noctis felt like he was punched hard in the stomach and he barely had time to grip the rails himself. When he looked up, steadying his breathing, he met Ravus’ unreadable gaze. For a moment it looked like Ravus wanted to say something but refrained. Noctis, though, had no time to think about that.

No, there was something more important that moment.

He needed to find _him_. He couldn’t bear being away from him anymore. Otherwise it made rocks fall into his stomach. Each and every one was a word.

 _Please, don’t hate me_.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

He couldn’t tell how he guessed the right direction – he just did and it led him into what he supposed was a Throne Room. Long, probably velvety curtains draped the ceiling above, their color matching the hair of a man, who was currently standing near the throne.

The throne, occupied by Emperor himself.

Ardyn stood right before him, with his back to Noctis and his pose spoke of no attention or stiffness. No, he seemed relaxed and Noctis, despite not seeing his face, could have sworn he wore a smile.

Unlike Aldercapt, though. No, the Emperor was frowning, his eyes like two slits of coldness. Noctis couldn’t tell whether the man saw him or not, but even if he did he hadn’t showed it. His eyes were on Ardyn the whole time and that was the main case for Noctis to come even closer. 

Once again, Aldercapt paid him no mind, staring at his Chancellor.

Chancellor who suddenly spoke, halting Noctis’ movements.

“I won’t come here anymore,” his tone was light and Noctis heard a smile in it. He wished he could look Ardyn in the face that moment, make him know he was there too.

Strangely, there were only three of them in a throne room. No guards, no retainers or over members of Imperial Court or something Niflheim had here and no MTs either. No one even stopped him when he was nearing this place, which, by any normal circumstances, should have been heavily guarded. Yet it wasn’t.

“I’m not surprised,” Emperor’s voice sounded creaky, like he hadn’t used it in a long time. It felt like a chalk, being forcefully dragged down the board. “I should have seen it coming.”

Suddenly he gripped throne’s handles, squeezing them hard – his body swayed slightly forward and Noctis saw how something hot flickered in his eyes. Even from the place he was currently standing at he saw everything clearly.

Aldercapt’s maniacal gaze dropped a heavy weight in his gut. The man’s face seemed barely sane enough and never in his life Noctis thought he would have witnessed Emperor of Niflheim looking like that.

“Should have guessed you were a traitor,” Aldercapt hissed, eyes boring holes in Ardyn. “Besithia tried to warn me once, but I never listened. Yes, now I see what a mistake that was. Should have never let you in—”

“Ah,” Ardyn shrugged then and the tone of his voice clearly told everything about a smile he definitely was wearing. “It seems I’m not fit for governmental job after all.”

“You’re trying to justify yourself now?” Aldercapt boomed abruptly, fist collading against throne’s handle. “After you sneaked your way into—”

“Oh, but you willingly took me in,” Ardyn raised a finger, as if explaining something obvious to an unruly child. It seemed to anger Aldercapt even more, though.

“Don’t you dare!” he hissed again, fingers convulsing against the throne. They seemed pale and more resembled claws than actual fingers. “Back then I trusted Besithia’s judgment and his res—”

“You _definitely_ shouldn’t have to,” Ardyn sighed, as if pitying some poor old man. Noctis didn’t need to see his expression to understand he was playing it all.

“I shouldn’t have trusted _you_ ,” Aldercapt’s face twisted in disgust, but it already seemed more maniacal than before. “It was _you_ who talked me out of my intual plan of attacking Insomnia during peace treaty signing. It’s because of _you_ that wretched city still stands and the Crystal I had so many plans for is still in there, offering its power to that cursed family.”

Noctis clenched both his fists, while hearing all of that. He wanted nothing more than to summon his Royal Arms and do something that would definitely violate a peace treaty – the one Niflheim had no intentions to comply with. It was perfectly clear that if not for Ardyn’s interference the whole day of signing would have turned into a nightmare.

“Should have trusted Besithia instead,” Aldercapt squeezed through clenched teeth and straightened up, leaning against his throne. “He never betrayed me.”

“No, he didn’t,” Ardyn agreed with ease, but Noctis felt it was not the end. He was proved right when Ardyn stepped forward gracefully, moving towards the side of a throne. This way Noctis saw his face partially and he was smiling – smiling, like he knew some secret and it delighted him.

“He infected you with a Scourge,” he finished, stopping beside Aldercapt, whose eyes followed him the entire time. 

Noctis froze, stunned by this statement, but judging by Aldercapt’s face, he was not very impressed or surprised. Even more, his frown deepened, as if he were irritated that someone knew about this. Ardyn, on the other hand, looked like he was amused by the very fact of Aldercapt possibly becoming a daemon.

“I was impressed, honestly,” he placed a hand over his heart, as if indicating a level of impression, but the look on his face remained the same – light amusement. “I knew he was trying to gain something grandiose out of that research, but his intentions were clear from the start – he wanted to use it on himself. But to go this far and turn his own Emperor in a test subject…” he chuckled in that honey-like way that always sent shivers up Noctis’ spine.

“It’s definitely not said in vain that every genius has a touch of madness, but in Chief Besithia’s case I wouldn’t call it a ‘touch’,” he shrugged with both hands, body swaying to the side slightly, as if he wanted to twirl, but decided against it. “I even wish he would come in here now to heatedly counter these innuendos,” he stopped mid-sentence, brows raising. “Oh, wait, he won’t be able anymore.”

That earned him a reaction at last: Aldercapt narrowed his eyes, leaning forward again.

“You…” he snarled in a hissing whisper. “What have you done?”

“I only gave him what he wanted,” Ardyn replied obligingly. “Frankly speaking, he was not overly pleased to receive my gift, but beggars can’t be choosers, can they?”

“You damned monster,” Aldercapt growled, but his voice cracked by the end. Noctis saw how his throat bobbed, how he tried to wet his lips with a tongue of unnatural color. It seemed almost black.

“That I am,” Ardyn agreed with ease and gave a quick bow, which totally seemed mocking instead of polite. “But you knew that already, don’t you? Since the moment we’ve met.”

“I should have never let you touch me that day!” Emperor’s shoulders tensed, as if he wanted to press his palms against the throne and stand up but failed. “You corrupted me—”

Ardyn tilted his head to the side, regarding him curiously – as much as Noctis could describe that expression on his face as ‘curiosity’ with his eyes being still painfully dead.

“I took your headache away,” he reminded him kindly after a pause. “I tried to do it like before, but I forgot I lost it. It was fortunate I know well the body’s natural pressure points, so I used this method appropriately.”

“Words of a liar,” Aldercapt spitted out, but Ardyn did not even blink an eye.

“Rest assured, you won’t hear them anymore,” he made another half-bow, smile turning crooked. He took a step from the throne and Aldercapt’s eyes flashed with rage.

“Don’t you dare turn your back on me!” he tried to lunge forward, but, it seemed, his body betrayed him, slumping against throne’s handle. “If you think…” he wheezed, out of breath. “If you think it ends like this—”

“But it ends,” Ardyn half-turned towards him again, palm raised. “Everything for you ends with me walking away.”

“Don’t expect me to let you out so easily,” Emperor hissed, eyes wide with fury. “There won’t a place you can hide from me. I will make sure to—” a violent coughing fit seized his body when Ardyn took another step back from him. When both Aldercapt and Noctis looked at him again, he was smiling, as if the scene finally met his expectations.

Aldercapt was silent for a long moment after that, trying to gain his breath back, but it still escaped him in short gasping puffs. Noctis caught the exact moment his eyes widened in something close to a horror.

“What’s happening?” he croaked, touching his own throat. 

“It wants me back,” Ardyn explained simply. Aldercapt’s body shuddered with another violent cough and Ardyn’s smile turned sweet. “I’m the Scourge,” he widened his arms slightly, as if introducing himself. “The one inside you wants me – I’m its source. When I walk away…” during a telling pause he started walking away further and with each step Emperor’s body was wracked with seizure after seizure.

Ardyn paid him no second glance, though. His eyes found Noctis and his smile hadn’t wavered even a slightest bit. As if he knew all along that Noctis was standing there, watching the whole scene and his mere presence made him happy.

“Without me, its source will be gone too,” Ardyn finished in a voice all velvety and soft. He looked only at Noctis this time. “Without me,” a gurgling sound from the throne hadn’t even made him pause, “there are no you.”

Probably Noctis should have cringed from the sounds which followed those words. Maybe he should have been taken aback by an obvious death of Empire’s ruler, as if those sounds he heard during next moments were any indication. He felt nothing of the sort – only a deep need to take Ardyn’s hand and drag him away frpom this place, making sure he would never set foot in Niflheim again.

Judging by the way Ardyn was looking at him with that soft and kind smile on his face, he was down to do everything Noctis would have suggested. 

So he did.


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time to remember the main theme of this work - 'pain'. You thought I was done with it? Haha. Think twice.  
> Anyway, hope you'll enjoy) And thank you so much for your feedback and support!

The base of Regis’ cane rang loudly against the marble floor when he misstepped. The sound grated on his nerves – like everything did that day. The floor, too polished and shiny. The cane he was sick and tired of. His advisors’ unrelenting fuss around him when they thought his health failed then or now. The rain, which was falling _hard_ for a few days already, dropping Regis’ mood level lower than low.

Six above, he _hated_ rain.

His parlor seemed so far away all of sudden, especially considering the fact that his leg refused to move properly. At days like these, he hated it as much as the raging weather outside. Yet that impairment brought no unwanted memories.

The rain did.

He squeezed his cane and stubbornly moved forward, for once grateful he was alone. It would have been even better without thoughts at all, but they began attacking his brain already, wriggling there like worms.

Waiting. Waiting was the hardest part. It was the best he could do, as well as looking back and thinking about lost possibilities and doings which would have gone differently by any other circumstances.

Regis sighed, finally lowering his already aching body in the chair in his parlor. It took him a few seconds of utter discomfort to find a bearable position for his leg and only then he let himself close his eyes and relax.

Time flowed so fast since Noctis left – where Regis expected to grow restless with each passing day, thinking about his son’s next step, the actual picture was considerably different in reality. It seemed like Noctis left only at the beginning of a week.

Like only a day before Nyx Ulric returned from Altissia and bowed silently at him, kneeling beside his throne. Regis’ words stuck in his throat that moment when he guessed everything before his Glaive started speaking. That night he prayed for the gods for the first time in years.

He prayed that a girl he once failed to protect found her peace. Gods never answered that night, nor in all subsequent ones, yet he let a bit of hope linger inside his chest. If not for the ease of his own soul but for Lunafreya’s sake.

And there he was – a cruel king at the top of the high tower, regretting mistakes he did in his life. He hoped that the next one, which would slap him in the face eventually, won’t be fatal at least.

Oh, how old he was, having these thoughts already. Tricks of an old man’s mind.

“Dad,” he heard then, and _that_ was _not_ a trick of the mind.

He opened his eyes in haste and there was his son, standing on a doorstep. Regis searched for his cane, scrambling to his feet, but Noctis already stepped forward too.

“What— How—” Regis couldn’t find words, throat tight with emotions. Noctis was there, safe, unharmed… _alive_. His son, his beautiful boy came back and Regis was torn between throwing a prayer to the Six for returning him home in one piece or finally hugging him.

“Just came back,” Noctis explained meanwhile, coming closer. “Went to see you right away.”

Regis finally gripped his cane and hauled his body upright, not looking away from his son the whole time. Gods above, he doubted he’d ever see him and it broke his heart every time those thoughts crawled into his head. But not only his dear son returned – but also the sun was still shining behind their window too.

Noctis embraced his duty. And he was successful. Regis wanted to scoop him in a hug he barely gave him since Noctis was a little boy but refrained from doing so. The look on his son’s face seemed slightly strange, unreadable, and unclear, yet at the same time, there was some sort of neutrality there, which Regis rarely have seen before.

Regis, though, wasn’t surprised. He guessed the events of Altissia left their mark on his son – a deep-rooted scar, that wouldn’t heal soon. Probably Lunafreya wasn’t the only one whom they lost in that journey.

“What about the others?” Regis asked quickly. Maybe someone from those young men who came with Noctis—

“They are fine,” Noctis shook his head with a bit of relief in his voice. And still, something felt odd. “They stayed near the engine.”

“The engine?” Regis lifted his brow. “You mean, _Regalia_?”

“No,” Noctis gazed out of the window for a second, before looking back at him again. His brow was furrowed all of sudden. “We came here on the Magitek engine.”

“Magitek—” Regis felt that the true meaning of their conversation eluded him. “I’m sorry, I’m a little confused. Do you mean—”

“A Magitek engine. We took one from Gralea,” Noctis shrugged as if it should have been an obvious explanation, though, for Regis it wasn’t.

“You went to Gralea? Why?” this time he frowned in confusion. Indeed, Nyx told him that Noctis decided to get back on the road after Luna’s death, but he hadn’t mentioned that Gralea was on the list.

Noctis did not answer – not right away. He regarded Regis with a long stare before eventually started speaking again. When he did – it wasn’t something Regis expected to hear from him. It wasn’t something they ever discussed too due to the total triviality of the topic.

“I don’t like them anymore,” Noctis spoke and Regis felt frustration, raising its head inside him. They were playing some unnecessary game of riddles, which Noctis started without bothering to explain to Regis the rules.

“By the Six—” he breathed out but had no time to finish.

“Sweets,” Noctis explained then in a plain, calm, and strangely indifferent tone, but that simple word punched Regis in the stomach more successfully than any fist ever could have done.

“What?”

“I ate sweets in Tenebrae once,” Noctis raised his open palm and looked down at it as if one of those non-existent sweets was there for his to taste. “Luna liked them very much, but me… I remember thinking they were just sweet. Still, I told Ignis about them for some reason and he tried to copy them since that time. Honestly, I don’t care very much.”

His fingers slowly clenched, forming a fist. Noctis looked up at Regis again and this time his eyes were hard.

“There was nothing of the sort in Cartanica.”

Regis’ knees went weak and he had to grip his cane with both hands to stay upright. Cartanica. Sweets. By the Six, Noctis named those two words as if he—

“On my way back I was trying to figure out your reason,” Noctis scraped his teeth so hard that Regis’ breath hitched. “I tried to think of everything I’d say to you when we met again and I came up with one simple word,” and there it was – desperation, looking at Regis from his eyes. “ _Why?_ ”

All those years Regis had only one proper answer.

“I tried to protect you.”

Noctis made a weird sound at that – not a laugh, but a harsh huff. The look on his face Regis had never seen before. He seemed hurt and rueful at the same time, with brows drawn tightly together in a painful arch and lips in a tight line.

“Protect me?” he repeated in what sounded like frustrating disbelief. “Protect me from what?”

Regis saw that wouldn’t be easy. A sigh escaped him when he shifted from foot to foot, trying to find the most bearable position for his leg. He doubted Noctis would have agreed to sit and talk calmly. He doubted he was capable of staying calm too in that situation.

His son knew everything – Regis could not for the life of him understand how, but Noctis remembered and, judging by his attitude, it brought only damage. Those days when Regis was selfishly glad that his son lived freely without this burden of past were over.

“I know that now it’s difficult for you to hear,” he began tiredly, “but believe me when I say that everything I’ve ever done was for you.”

“I remember being sick,” Noctis looked back at him and any hint of ruefulness was gone from his gaze. It was as hard as steel in his voice. “I remember hating myself, thinking that I was in some empty dark place where there was nothing of myself. I was numb, with no feelings, no emotions, no wishes. Tell me, was it normal for a child to have those inside him? Were you satisfied I became that pliant and docile?”

“Noctis—” Regis lifted his hand, but his son gave him no opportunity to interfere. He has not finished yet.

“I might not have been the best-behaved son,” Noctis’ lips twisted. “Quite the opposite. I know it was hard with me, yet I tried. I tried to make you proud of me—”

“I was and I am, Noctis,” Regis assured him quickly, with the passion he rarely felt before. Every single word Noctis said stabbed Regis’ heart with the sharpest needles, with no way of extracting them. “You can’t even imagine all those feelings, which make my heart swell every time I look at who you’ve become.”

“And whom exactly I’ve become?” Noctis moved forward, but stopped a few feet away, nonetheless. “King of Light? Protector of our precious star? How can I be someone’s protector when I could not save Luna? And when the person I—” he cut himself off, head shaking frustratingly, but Regis heard everything to put two and two together.

“Person?” he carefully checked, heart jumping in his chest. He begged the Six that they would make Noctis give not the answer he anticipated. “Noctis, please, tell me you—”

“I brought him back, Dad,” Noctis’s eyes flashed with resolve, but those simple words stabbed Regis right through his stomach. He dreaded them and, upon hearing them, felt like the whole world began crumbling under his feet.

“Brought… _him_ back?” he repeated and could not care less if it was panic, which poured through every spoken letter. “Son, do you have any idea who he is? _What_ he is?”

“No, don’t speak about him like that,” Noctis scraped his teeth, pointing a finger at him. A hot stab of anger coursed through Regis’ whole body at that. Panic for his son’s safety and rage for his youthful indiscretion collided inside him, merging into something in-between.

“All those years ago I’ve made a mistake of letting it in,” Regis clenched his fist. “Of letting it in your life.”

“It? You call him—” Noctis eyes widened, but his face was twisted with anger. “How can you call a living, breathing person ‘it’?!”

“Because it’s not a person, it’s a daemon,” Regis retorted, taking another step towards him. They were barely at arm’s length, but neither crossed the remaining distance, both too shocked with everything the other one was saying. “It’s the Accursed, a Scourge incarnate, and it existed for thousands of years, waiting for the opportunity to bring its wrath upon our family. Upon you.”

“But he never touched me,” Noctis slashed the air with his hand, eyes like two blazing pits of fire. Regis could have sworn he saw purple lights flickering inside them. “He was not a threat to me ever. We were happy together,” he squeezed his eyes shut for a second, but before Regis could open his mouth, Noctis pierced him with a glare, that took away his words.

“You took him away from me,” he said, and every letter dripped with pain. “I lost him that day because of you. Did you know?” his voice started raising all of sudden. “Did you know he was waiting for me there, for _months_? Did you know that Empire’s mad scientist had him after that and took him apart every fucking day? Did you know he called for me, nonetheless? He called for me to come back, but I never did, when by that time I barely remembered him already, because you took him away even from my mind!”

The sound of his rage echoed through the stone wall of the room, ringing in Regis’ ears in a form of accusation for his mistakes. And yet that one was not a mistake and he was ready to fight for his decision with tooth and nail. Just like he was ready to do the same for his son’s life.

Noctis just still could not understand and Regis’ heart clenched with anticipation of explaining it to him all over again. His boy was deceived by that monster once again and, judging by his previous words, he brought that monster back once again. Regis’ skin crawled when he thought about that wretched creature standing behind their door, probably cackling with the glee of hearing his prey defending him with such vigor.

“But he’s back now,” Noctis touched the side of his head. “I remember everything about him, about us. Your actions had the opposite effect, father,” his mouth upturned in quick but humorless smile. It slipped away to make room for the previous mask of pain and anger, though. “Since the day I forgot him a feeling grew inside me. A sense that I wasn’t whole anymore.”

“Noctis—” Regis tried. He dreaded where this was going, but his son did not let him speak.

“I was empty without him, but now he’s back and everything is as it should be,” Noctis touched his chest with an open palm. “I merely existed without him by my side, had no feelings or desires, yet I have them now. They are overwhelming me with their power, but I am not afraid, because I can finally feel. I feel and this feeling is the strongest in the whole world.”

“Son, please—” Regis gripped his cane with both hands, feeling the ground slipping away from him. It was not just simply crumbling under his feet, no, he started to lose his footing because of the meaning behind words his boy was saying.

No, he could not have had those feelings. No, Noctis could not have been saying—

“What are you—” he began, but Noctis beat him to it.

“I love him,” and the world collapsed on Regis like a shockwave. It was a miracle he stayed on his feet, even if his body felt like it betrayed him completely, frozen, trembling, and weak.

“You can’t,” he heard his own hoarse whisper, met with Noctis’ harsh retort.

“I love him, and I felt it since the moment we’ve met for the first time. I was too small to understand, but I am glad to realize it now. I do not care if you’re against it, not anymore. Not after you—”

“Noctis, it’s not possible,” Regis squeezed through clenched teeth. It felt like they were moldering right in his mouth with every spoken word. Regis tasted bile and ash, but he had to proceed. There was no other choice.

Noctis still did not know, but the truth was—

“Don’t say to me what’s possible or not,” his son’s harsh words pierced his skull with strikes of pain. “I don’t care what you’re gonna say anymore. Do you hear me? I don’t ca—”

Every spoken letter hammered through his bones, making it impossible to think, to breathe, to calm down, and try to persuade his son. This pain grew inside his head rapidly, bursting it, tearing in two halves with such speed that Regis wanted to stop it, to make that pain go away, to make Noctis understand, he had to understand that he couldn’t have those feelings. He wanted him to see the truth and it rushed out of him together with the pain in a form of strangled shout, which echoed through the room like a roar of thunder.

“You have to _kill_ him!” 

Just like that, the pain left him as if it never was there before. As if speaking this ugly truth aloud helped Regis regain his composure, pieced together the world under his feet… yet destroyed the one for Noctis.

“What—” he began slowly, voice dropping an octave, but Regis knew Noctis heard him well for the first time. A horrible realization was slowly spreading across Noctis’ features because they both knew that time Regis was honest.

“The Prophecy,” a slightly shuddering sigh pushed itself from Regis’ lungs. “The Revelation of Draconian himself. The True King – a King of Light – has the power to banish darkness from the world with the Royal Arms, the Crystal, and the Ring of the Lucii. This combined power can destroy the vessel of the Starscourge, erasing its presence from our Star and cleansing it for good.”

The silence that followed his words felt sharp, like a knife’s edge, but didn’t last long.

“No,” Noctis shook his head, setting his jaw tight. “No, I don’t believe you.”

“Noctis,” Regis sighed again. He knew his son would be in denial at first and after everything Noctis said, the truth about Prophecy felt like a slap in the face. “I know it’s hard to take, believe me—”

“Why should I?” Noctis snapped, jerking up his head, eyes blazing again. And yet there was something else in there – the despair, which stabbed Regis’ heart like a lightning. “You lied to me before.”

“Because this time I can’t lie, not about this,” probably Regis’s voice sounded as sorely as he felt, because Noctis just narrowed his eyes, but stayed silent. “Not when all those years ago my ancestors showed me the fate of my child, which I vowed to change. The fate of the Chosen King – the same as for the one he should destroy – sacrificing himself for our Star.”

He had to squeeze his eyes shut because otherwise he feared all his grief would flow from them in a never-ending stream. His voice dropped to a whisper when he continued.

“I lost my dear wife once, who was the light of my life. I couldn’t bear to lose you too, my only ray of hope, my child. The Lucii… They tempted me to kill that creature, yet I hesitated. I failed and subjected you to your fate. I prayed for this monster to die there because only that way you would have stayed alive.”

When Regis finished and finally opened his eyes, Noctis was looking right at him. There was no trace of anger in his eyes or on his face. And looking at him at that moment Regis felt the urge to beg him to feel it all over again. Because Noctis eyes turned empty as if his very life sipped from them and it crushed Regis’ inside.

“Noctis—” he called, but his son turned away from him.

“I understand,” his voice felt as empty as his eyes were, but before Regis could have said anything else to soften the blow somehow, he took a step forward and left the room without another word.

“Wait, Noctis!” Regis tried to follow him hastily, but his leg suddenly gave out and he bumped in a chair, gritting his teeth from the sharp pain in his knee. He tried to steady himself on shaking limbs, desperately calling for his son, but Noctis hadn’t answered.

Nor returned.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

The world seemed gray and buzzed with noises Noctis barely paid attention to. Everything moved so fast around him that he stopped to grasp it. He didn’t want to, though, nor did he care. The only thing he cared about was words, which resided in his head like worms, slowly and greedily eating out his brain.

The Prophecy he had to fulfill. Prophecy Luna gave her life for, undoubtedly knowing too of the fate of the Chosen King and his sworn enemy. Just like his father knew everything about it and decided to blow the whole thing for his son to stay alive.

Yet there he was – the damned Chosen King, who forged the Covenants only to learn the real truth at the end of his grandiose journey. The real truth about the fact that his life had about as much currency as the Moogle plushie. Which meant – nothing at all.

And his life was still valued more than the life of the one he had to kill for their Star to be safe and clean. It made his stomach clench with something he never felt before – even that day in Verstael Besithia’s facility, squeezing the life of that man with his bare hands.

‘Rage’ was a _definite_ understatement.

So gods defined his fate and Noctis, honestly, wasn’t impressed at all. He gave a little damn about those who tried to make him do something against his will in reality, and this time it was about ancient beings who claimed to be power brokers or so.

As far as he knew the Scourge existed for thousands of years already: people were infected since ancient times and they died; whole nations were destroyed by that plague, and the gods… where were the gods during those times? Why couldn’t they help if they claimed to be divine protectors of their Star?

No, they did nothing, making people fight in unwinnable war until the King of Light would come and save everyone with his ultimate sacrifice. Probably, by any other circumstances, Noctis would have been willing to take that burden upon himself and gave his life for something his father and Luna believed in.

That wasn’t an option, though. By no means would he raise his sword against the one he has sworn to protect by all costs, even if gods named him ‘a vessel of the Scourge’.

The gods… Noctis clenched his teeth so hard they ached. His feet were moving even faster now, bringing him closer to his chosen goal.

Something was missing in this whole story. Ardyn couldn’t have been the Scourge incarnate as Regis claimed him to be. Noctis remembered thinking about it too, yes, but that time, wrapping his mind around this fact more, he felt a deep incomprehension.

What happened to Ardyn that he became like that? Why the gods chose him and Noctis precisely for that Prophecy? Why them both? And why, for the love of Eos, should they accept it the way it was?

Noctis stomped his feet hard against the marble floor and leapt forward. In a flash of bluish light he warped, landing on another level of the Citadel. Someone gasped behind him, but he spared them no second glance, disappearing again in a mad rush of reaching his final destination.

The final destination, which glowed with the same cold blue light he saw when he was a child. But that time, standing before the Crystal and looking at its depths he felt no fear. He stepped closer, looking impassively at the source of their family’s magic, which was gifted to them by none others than those aforementioned gods.

The gift he witnessed only once before in his life when something made him came here. When he felt he needed to do something in haste, despite being sick and on a verge of dying after losing the very meaning of his life.

He appeared before the Crystal that day, reaching inside, in that colorful place he saw once too. The place, from which everything started. Which tried to tear him apart while tearing someone else along with him.

Someone he tried to protect, even with his small, shaking hands. And he did – he pieced that person back together and felt him doing the same for him. That time Noctis knew who that person was and he wanted to scream from frustration, realizing they were so close that time – barely within arm’s reach. Only one last push and they would have been together again.

But that place tore them apart. Noctis wanted to know why.

He reached his arm out, and when the Crystal reached for him in return, he felt no fear.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

It was Gladio who pushed Ignis’ shoulder suddenly – right in time for them to notice that the Chancellor stood up. Ignis saw his friends immediately tensing while feeling an itch in his fingers from the need to summon his blade.

Yet he doubted the Chancellor would have noticed him doing it either way. No, he looked at the Citadel and that time he wasn’t smiling. Ignis hadn’t had time to think of the reason when the man moved.

“Wha—” Prompto jumped up from the stairs he was sitting on, eyes wide in alarm.

“Where are you going?” Ignis jerked forward but stopped before he could reach the Chancellor.

Stopped, because he turned to them himself and Ignis forgot about the desire to summon his weapon. He guessed the same happened to Gladio and Prompto because the three of them stood and watched in silence at the Chancellor of Niflheim, who—

—seemed lost, as if his whole life was taken away from him in a single moment.

“Noctis is not here,” he said in a voice, which matched his expression.

And the world around them turned black.


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The delay was a big one this time and I'm sorry for that. Honestly, the chapter was ready, like, for weeks now but real life and my emotional state got in the way of posting it. I'm unimaginably grateful to the love of my life, Wooden Deer, who supported me every day and was there for me. Her gentle but strong hand finally led me here again, where I can finally post the new chapter. I love you, my dear, thank you!  
> And that you everyone, too - for reading, leaving kudos and comments and being my audience. I cherish each and every one of your feedback. Hope you'll like the new chapter because I certainly do as much as like all of you.

The space he was in shone with colors – bright, yet nameless. There was the only one which seemed constant and overwhelming – blue. The one that was there the first time and the second time too.

By the third time, Noctis realized he hated it.

Though, not as much as the enormous being on whose palm he was currently standing, listening to a booming voice telling him everything he craved to know.

Bahamut – the Draconian – waited for him in that place to forge the last Covenant. To accept his fate and duty as the Chosen King of Light. To bow his head to god’s will and fulfill the Prophecy as was preordained.

When Noctis asked _‘Why?’_ Bahamut told him the truth.

That was the moment Noctis learned Ardyn’s true name.

The Draconian spoke and images started flashing in Noctis’ mind. Memories of the past: people’s faces, landscapes, daemons… He saw the man he already has seen before, who wore his face, and a woman who resembled Luna. But first of all, he saw Ardyn and he looked the same as on the day they first met.

More than two thousand years ago _Ardyn_ was chosen as the King of Light.

Not long after he was betrayed by the woman who claimed to love him and the man with Noctis’ face – his brother, Somnus Lucis Caelum. The Mystic. The Founder King, who built his kingdom on the blood on his brother.

A brother he—

Noctis wanted to scream when he saw the Angelgard, but instead he tasted tears that were not his again – like that day he sailed past that cursed island with his friends. That day when he still has not remembered that he was there before – with someone for whom that place reminded of never-ending agony and excruciating pain.

Ardyn had the power to heal people granted to him by the gods. A power, which made him absorb the Scourge inside his body, tearing him apart from the inside and not once he complained. No, he did it; despite all sufferings he endured, despite hiding from his brother who tried to kill him all that time.

He did it because he was the truest King of Light—

A King of Light betrayed by those same gods who brought that burden upon him. They rejected him, threw him away like some useless thing. They did nothing when Somnus’ blades tore at his body; when Aera Mirus Fleuret was brutally killed right before Ardyn’s eyes, taking her last breath in his arms. They did nothing when Somnus pierced Ardyn’s chest with a sword… only to change it to ten spikes later.

Those who named themselves ‘gods’ watched and did nothing. Because they changed their Prophecy as they whished.

Because they needed a vessel for the Starscourge they were too weak to erase themselves. The vessel destined to die from the hands of the new King of Light. The vessel, who was named _Adagium_ and erased from history. The vessel, which was forgotten along with his true name.

 _Ardyn Lucis Caelum._

The King of Light. The healer of the people. The Scourge incarnate.

A sacrifice to be made who did not even know of his destiny.

In a horrible realization, which made Noctis’ mind scream in agony, he learned that Ardyn didn’t even know about the fate that was chosen for him. 

When Bahamut’s story ended, the images stopped too and Noctis looked up at the Draconian. The winged creature seemed calm, confirming Noctis’ beliefs that there was not a single trace of divinity in it.

If Bahamut really was a god, he would have known everything Noctis felt at that moment. And upon learning it he would not have stayed calm. 

“The Prophecy shall be fulfilled,” his rumbling voice echoed around them, grating on Noctis already frayed nerves. After Noctis landed on his palm, the Draconian started speaking in an ancient pompous speech pattern, making it difficult to understand him. Probably he sensed Noctis’ confusion – or simply saw it on his face, because his way of speaking changed to a simpler one.

It did nothing to calm Noctis’ inner turmoil, though. Quite the opposite, it only fuelled the fire.

“The Accursed must perish—”

“I won’t do it,” Noctis’ voice resembled a clean cut of his ancestor’s blade. He hated such similarity, hated wearing the same face, but most of all he hated the one who was currently looking down on him and thinking that his new _‘Chosen One’_ was going to take his duty with obedience.

“Listen carefully, _Draconian_ ,” Noctis almost spit the name from his mouth. “I. Won’t. Do. It. I will never raise my hand against him.”

“And by that you’ll sentence out Star to death and destruction,” Bahamut’s wings ruffled, creating a sound that made Noctis’ head hurt. “As well as the one you claim to harbor deepest feelings for.”

“I will save him—” Noctis stepped forward on his palm and the Draconian spread his wings wide, enormous eyes flashing with pale-blue light.

“You will take away his salvation, _o Chosen One_. Take away his chance of finding peace after thousands of years of never-ending agony.”

“You brought it on him!” Noctis’ voice resonated through the space they were in, ringing in his own ears. “He’s suffering because you abandoned him instead of saving. He was the one who should have become the King of Light—”

“His fate was sealed the moment he was born,” the Draconian’s voice sounded like blades his wings consisted of. “A vision of the first Oracle was misinterpreted.”

Noctis’ throat clenched in a horrible sense of disbelief. His wide eyes roamed the masked face of a creature who claimed to be a god but, in reality, was none other than an alien who chose the right world to dwell in. And that creature was the truest monster.

“You chose him since he was born to be your pawn,” he whispered, and it tore his throat like sandpaper. “It was you who infected him all along! The one at fault here is only—”

He cut himself off as his windpipe was crushed by some unbelievable force. Noctis clutched his throat, frantically gulping for air – if the thing around them had one, actually – but his vision started already graying at the edges. Bahamut’s eyes shone mercilessly – blazing with blue color Noctis hated with all his being.

Everything blurred before his eyes, but he tried to focus, not to slip away. He could not – he felt something terrible would happen if he lost his consciousness. He had to stay awake, had to resist the power that tried to make him close his eyes, and open them only later – much, much later.

But he could not let that happen.

He had to return!

Ardyn waited for him. Like that day in Cartanica, when Noct’s father told him to buy sweets for the boy who became Ardyn’s whole life. He told him everything when they left Gralea, his smile soft and happy that Noctis was with him – a stark contrast to the meaning behind those words.

That Ardyn was cast aside again. He was abandoned and left to die, but he did not – he could not, because of the Scourge in his veins. So, he suffered… but waited.

He waited for Noctis to return.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

Regis paid zero attention to the panic, which enveloped the whole Citadel in a matter of minutes. People were running around, shouting orders, babbling, asking questions no one knew answers for, but Regis brushed past all of them in desperate haste. He had to be in the only one place.

He hoped he guessed right the direction Noctis choose.

He pushed the doors of Crystal’s chamber with his magic, making them bounce against the walls, all but running inside despite the excruciating pain in his knee—

Only to stop dead in his tracks when he realized that the place was already occupied.

Anger and hatred raised their heads inside him at the sight of a monster standing near the Crystal with his back to Regis. That time, though, Regis has not hesitated – he summoned his weapon and stepped forward, snarling through clenched teeth: 

“Don’t you dare step closer. You have no right to touch it.”

The Accursed slowly turned towards him and Regis sucked in a breath at the sight of dead-eyed stare. The man was not smiling, his face seemed blank and empty, just like his eyes. Yet Regis did not let himself lower his guard down – that was a monster ready to lash out at any given opportunity, but Regis was not going to stand still. He was determined to make a first blow – the one he failed to make all those years ago.

Unexpectedly Adagium started turning back towards the Crystal and Regis lunged forward, dropping his cane with a loud clang.

“Don’t!” his anger reverberated in the chamber and the Accursed froze… just like he did all those years ago when Regis simply entered his line of sight.

All those years ago the monster looked at him with fear in his eyes and Regis hated himself for knowing deep down that it was not faked. Almost as much as he hated that same monster.

“It’s because of you,” his voice broke by the end and he wanted to scream in anger but could not. He had to gather the power slipping from him already. “My son will die because of you.”

He snapped his head up, burning the Accursed with every ounce of hatred he could keep inside himself.

“Everything is your damn—”

“I have to make him whole again,” Adagium said and his voice sounded as helpless as he looked years ago, with child’s pillow clutched to his chest. “He’s everything. I have to make him whole again.”

Regis’s hand trembled so hard he almost dropped the blade. His whole body felt on fire, which licked his insides, turning them to ashes – he already tasted it on his tongue. He was burning with that flame because that was everything he deserved. For letting his son fall in love with a monster. For taking that monster away from him and destroying his whole world. For praying his boy would never remember. For lying for years. For being weak to strike when he had an opportunity.

For having it now.

In the same second his blade slashed the air between them the Accursed placed his palm on the Crystal.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

The blue was tearing him apart, taking away his very being, drowning him in itself and making him close his eyes eventually. He fought tooth and nail, but his vision turned grey already. He was falling – falling in a place so deep he would not be able to escape it soon.

He did not want to. He had to return but he could not remember why already.

His eyes were closing because he had to sleep. He had to sleep for a while before time would come for him to wake up and fulfill his duty. The duty he could not remember about too.

The blue was around him. His world was grey, but the blue was still around. It tugged at him, embraced him, lulled him to close his eyes, sleep well, do not fight—

Until something flickered at the corner of his half-closed eyes. A simple dot of golden light – so small and fragile it barely shone, yet it reached for him as if pushing through the blue around them at the limit of its strength. As if it were aware it would fade completely upon reaching him and despite that only pushed itself forward harder.

Because it loved him.

And he loved it too.

Noctis reached through the haze he was in, despite every cell in his body screaming from the effort, and the light brushed his index finger, falling in his palm.

And the blue around him exploded – once more, like that time it already did, years ago, not standing a chance against the power beyond measure even for the beings which called themselves ‘gods’.

It exploded with the light – platinum and gold, black and purple and Noctis embraced it with both hands, clutching it to his chest like his only lifeline. The color returned and when Noctis lifted his head he was not standing on Bahamut’s palm anymore. The Draconian was floating before him and the cold steel in his eyes seemed ready to strike just like blades by his sides, pointed at Noctis already.

He lifted his palm at the same time those blades attacked him, and the light dodged them all. The whole blue around them seemed to bend with the force in Noctis’ arms but before he could have made his attack attempt, the Draconian started speaking again.

Another truth he hadn’t revealed yet. About the moment the betrayed King of Light and the new King of Light connected – with their whole beings dragged into the Crystal that fateful night all those years ago.

And about the part of Ardyn’s soul, which were torn from him and sucked into the Crystal that moment, nearly destroying him completely, breaking him in a most horrendous way and throwing aside what was left. A part of his soul Noctis was currently cradling in his hands – the light, which made him whole again.

Which saved him then and that time again.

And which he could not take back with him. He could not return it to its rightful owner. Because Ardyn could have it back only after his physical body would be destroyed by the King of Light. Then – and only then his soul would become whole. His eyes won’t be dead anymore, his brain would be healed, and his consciousness would fully return.

Only to perish again.

Noctis looked down at his hands, tenderly cradling the part of Ardyn’s soul in his palms and his anger, his hatred and rage dissolved – turned into agonizing feeling of grief. Of bone-crushing agony from the fact that he held the part of his world in both hands and could not make it whole.

That time, again, he could not protect him.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

The Nothing needed the Special, because then it would become something.

Noctis was the Special. He was the world. He was everything.

And he loved the Nothing even when it was not something.

The Nothing still had to become something, though.

Because it _wanted_ to.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

The Whole existed when there was no time. When everything was whole and complete. Then parts started appearing in the never-ending vastness of the Whole and it became full beyond measure yet welcomed it, nonetheless.

The Whole slipped through the parts, reaching each and every one, coating it, embracing it and every living thing on it with the indescribable expanse of itself. Until the Whole slipped through the Part and gained eyes. It gained voice, it gained ‘body’, but it was not the Whole anymore.

It divided and became _the Nothing_. And it waited.

It waited for its ‘part’ to return.

The Nothing waited – it waited in what was called ‘time’ and when it ended the Nothing felt its part.

 _The Special_.

And it felt the Nothing back. 

And they rushed towards each other, meeting in the in-between which had the color of blue and something else inside it. Something that wanted them to be divided still. So, it tore them apart and the Special screamed from something that became ‘pain’ and the Nothing screamed too when the Special was torn from it.

Damaged and broken, they could not meet again in in-between.

So, they met in the Part nonetheless, but the damage was horrible: the Special hadn’t recognized yet the Nothing did but it didn’t have a ‘voice’ to explain it. And when it did, it could not call the Special because it did not know how. So, gave it the Name instead.

 _Noctis_.

It waited for _Noctis_ to give it name too. It knew Noctis – the Special – would recognize it soon. But he did not because they were torn apart again. 

Yet the Nothing waited. It waited for the Special to find it.

 _It waited for Noctis to return._

It chose a Name the Special would have given it and when the ‘time’ ended they met once more. The Special looked at the Nothing and gave it his name and the Nothing gave his own in return.

And just like that they became the Whole again.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

The daemon hissed but stayed where it was – it did not attack. It was the only one among dozens of them which made a sound; the others just hovered behind like silent nightmares; the matching yellow light of their eyes created a grotesque resemblance of field full of fireflies.

“Lower your weapon,” Cor Leonis said after long beats of silence, during which no party had moved and the Glaives’s eyes landed on him right on cue.

“…Sir?” a woman asked, her eyes darting back to a closest daemon. It was the one that made a sound but otherwise had not moved.

“Lower you weapon,” Cor repeated simply despite deep frown on his face. “Stand down.”

With the strict order from Marshall, the Glaives’s put their weapon down and the daemons, as if following the same command, shifted slightly back. There was no sound indicating their movement, no clear image of them doing so with world being black. The lights of Insomnia still shone, though, but the daemons had not recoiled.

No, they came to a square in front of a Citadel and stood there like unmoving and unblinking shadows of the night. Shadows people were somehow not scared of. No, the Glaives were not afraid – not even one of them – and not even one could understand why.

“Sir?” the man beside Cor asked. “What now?”

“Now we will wait,” Ignis replied instead of Marshall, standing with Gladio and Prompto near the stairs. His own weapon was pointed at the ground.

“Because they are waiting too,” Nyx Ulric finished, and the closest daemon’s yellow eyes looked right at him.

It did not make a sound.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

When Noctis looked up at Bahamut again he knew that his eyes were purple. No Royal Arms floated around him, no Kings of Yore filled the place with their presence – there were only him and the Draconian.

And the light, brighter than any Star in the Universe, in the safety of his palms.

A part of him. His Whole.

“I’m out of here,” his voice held no arguments. Despite everything happening during those timeless moments, Noctis felt at peace. “And I won’t ever come back.”

“You won’t take it with you,” the Draconian boomed again, enormous hand pointing at the light in Noct’s hands. “It won’t be able to escape the Realm.”

“I will take it with me,” Noctis shook his head and the corner of his lips curled in a smile when the light flickered between his fingers at those words. “Because it’s a part of me too.”

He looked down at the meaning of his life, shining softly in his hands.

 _My Whole._

“Let’s come home,” he whispered, and the light burst around him, swallowing the blue completely, embracing him with it till there was nothing left except them both.

It felt happy.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

The child ran through the barren land – till it turned into a field. He ran through long spikes, which tugged at his pants and crumbled under his legs. He ran until the sky rumbled above him and the rain started falling – and even then, he did not stop.

Because something waited him ahead.

Something more important than entire universe.

Something that made him Whole.

It was there – right there within an arm’s reach and he lost it once, but he wasn’t afraid he’d lose it again anymore. No, because it already was a part of him too.

And when he reached that part, he saw the golden eyes he loved so much even before he had seen them for the first time. He saw a smile he wanted to tug into his chest and let it nestle inside. He felt arms that held him tenderly like all those times before with a promise not to let go ever again.

The boy lunged forward, wrapping his arms around neck of his Whole, whispering in happiness filling up the world around them with blinding light of white and black.

“It’s okay now—”

“—we’re back,” Ardyn finished, holding him in his arms in a Crystal chamber, and the smile on his face matched the one shining in his eyes.

Eyes that were not dead anymore.

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

That same day tears strained Regis’ cheeks. A weakness he did not allow to happen, probably, since Noctis’ mother died, but they leaked out of his eyes in never-ending flow he did not even try to stop. Noctis said nothing about it – no, he held him in his arms tightly the whole time, while his father, suddenly so weak and _human_ , pressed his head to his heart, listening for its steady beat.

When the tears stopped, the three of them left the Crystal chamber at last. Regis was leaning both heavily on his cane and Noctis, who clenched his forearm in a gentle but firm grip. He saw his father squinting from the light flowing through the windows in the corridor like an ocean wave of white and gold.

It felt warm on Noctis’ own face and it kissed Ardyn’s cheek with softest of touches, turning his smile even tenderer than before. His skin remained intact during those moments but Noctis till wanted to touch it too to make sure he was not hurt.

When they stopped to give his father a few seconds of rest, his fingers twitched, reaching towards Ardyn, but before he could have made a sound his world already turned to him and reached out too.

They were finally Whole, and that simple truth threatened to burst Noctis’ body – yet he wasn’t opposed to the idea. He was not afraid he might die – he could not, not when his Whole would piece him back any time. So, he pressed his face against his neck, arms tight around him and let out a sigh with full lungs. Finally, he could breathe freely.

Finally, he was at peace.

Ardyn hummed softly, fingers carding through the hair at his nape – Noctis just snuggled even closer to him, face rubbing against the skin of his neck.

“We have to move,” Ardyn reminded him softly after a bit of content silence and when Noctis tightened his arms around him even harder than before, his chuckle reverberated through both their bodies. “As much as I enjoy being in your arms, my love, we _definitely_ should proceed.”

“Dnnwanna,” Noctis grumbled against his skin, breathing in his scent, drowning in it completely. He felt he would have snapped at anyone or anything foolish enough to try and take Ardyn away from him in that moment.

“I believe, I think your father will collapse otherwise,” Ardyn continued cheerfully, patting the back of his head. “But I guess it’s not a big deal then.”

Noctis’ head shot back, muscles groaning, but his Dad was still standing, though leaning against the wall for support. Noct’s fingers twitched against Ardyn but before he would have been torn between desire to help his father and all-consuming need to never let go of Ardyn again, the latter whooshed from his arms gracefully and touched Regis forearm, steadying him.

Regis’ flinch was short, but he has not tried to move away. Nor did his eyes turned spiteful – he just looked worn-out and tired. Ardyn’s own face wore the most benevolent of smiles and Noctis could not help but feel slightly confused.

It seemed Ardyn held no grudge against the one who left him in Cartanica, automatically subjecting him to horrors of Empire’s captivity. A part of Noctis that still couldn’t forgive his father kind of wished it to be otherwise, but the biggest part – a part of the boy, who was the only precious thing in his dad’s life – was relieved.

Together they moved Regis back to his room – Noctis contemplated warping there but refrained from doing so in the end. His Dad seemed like he would collapse from any stronger puff of air, so using the magic of teleportation was not an option.

He groaned when Noctis helped him lay down on a bed while the staff they finally met during their way back started fussing around immediately. Regis grabbed Noctis hand when he smiled down on him quickly and moved to walk away but the King’s eyes landed on another man who stood near the door already.

Regis mouth opened but no sound came. Noctis saw how an inner struggle twisted his father features but stayed silent himself too. Ardyn’s golden eyes landed on Regis and he cocked his head to the side, looking at his distant descendant as if he were an interesting puzzle he wanted to solve.

After a moment of tense silence Regis tried again. No sound escaped him still other that a hoarse ‘Uhh’ and the smile on Ardyn’s face turned benign. He shrugged with one hand as if saying ‘Oh well’, gave a flourishing bow and gracefully flowed out of the room.

Noctis looked back at his Dad who closed his eyes and let out a breath he was holding. He squeezed his slightly trembling hand reassuringly and after a moment of silence between them Regis let go.

Ardyn waited him in the corridor, leaning against a wall and Noctis barely resisted another urge to latch onto him with his whole body. Judging by the way Ardyn’s crooked smile turned soft and tender he shared those thoughts. 

When Noctis touched his cheek, Ardyn nuzzled against it like a cat – smug, fluffy and content – and it tore an _‘Oh’_ from Noctis’ own chest.

“Are you alright?” he whispered, touching his face with both palms then, earning a definite purr in answer.

“Never been better,” Ardyn cocked his head slightly to make Noct’s fingers slip into his hair, and when they started stroking in there Noctis thought Ardyn would turn to liquid right in his arms.

“It’s okay,” Noctis moved forward and pressed their foreheads together. It seemed slightly strange – somehow different than before but he decided to think about it later. “Everything’s gonna be okay from now on.”

Ardyn only hummed in obvious content and Noctis threw arms around him in a quick hug. When he finally started moving again, Ardyn’s lips brushed the side of his face and Noctis touched that spot with his fingers only to feel slight stubble there.

He blinked, touching his jaw and there it was – covering the lower part of his face. Ardyn was smiling at him during the whole inspection and when Noctis met his gaze with his own wide-eyed stare, Ardyn’s face split into mischievous grin.

“Time in Astral flows a _bit_ differently, my love.”

• ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ • ♦ •

Frankly speaking Noctis adapted rather quickly to his new looks – what could not have been said about his friends and father, though. Regis, it seemed, was half-comatose when Noctis returned from the Crystal because he realized that his son’s appearance changed only seeing him after a prolonged rest.

In the end it was Prompto who shared everyone’s opinion in a form of simple ‘…Wow.’ He even asked permission to touch but did it quickly – probably still being in a slight shock. Or more probably because of smugly smirking Ardyn who watched any skin-to-skin contact with eyes _dangerously_ gleaming like molten gold.

After that matter had been finally solved, Ignis started updating him about the current situation. That was how Noctis learned about the fact that the world turned black when he was sucked in a Crystal. And how Ardyn disappeared after that, alarming Gladio, Prompto and Ignis to a high extent.

How daemons slipped from the darkness, gathering on a square before the Citadel. How they stayed there and waited in silence, watching people with their yellow eyes, without trying to attack. Only to shift after a long minutes and slither away in a rush seconds before the sun broke the sky’s darkness, filling the world with its light again.

When Ignis finished talking, Noctis looked back at Ardyn.

“They won’t come here anymore,” Ardyn said with easy smile but the words weighted a lot. “They won’t attack unless someone attacks them first. And there won’t be new ones from now on – only those, which exist already.”

“But the Scourge—” Gladio frowned in disbelief only for Ardyn to flash him a radiant smile.

“I’m the Scourge,” his golden eyes shone like part of his soul Noctis held in his hands not so long ago. “I will keep everything under control,” the last part he told while staring right into Noctis face.

“You won’t be doing it alone,” Noctis reassured in a voice that resembled his father’s name. Regal. “Not anymore. From now on I will stand by you.”

He walked closer to him and could not resist another hug. He knew his friends won’t complain, not when they understood him so well already. He was determined not to let go. Ever. Ardyn’s hands circled his body and Noctis closed his eyes when a fragile whisper grazed the shell of his ear in feather-soft touch.

“Please, don’t hate me.”

“It’s okay, my love,” he breathed against his skin. “I’m here. I’m here.”


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it! Thank you, everyone, for being with me during this journey. But stay tuned, you're gonna get something new very soon.  
> Hope you'll like the Epilogue of this work which became a really important part of my life and I was really happy writing and sharing it here.  
> Thank you for your wonderful feedback, it gave me a great inspiration to move on and proceed.

When Noctis finally moved a horrible-looking stack of paper aside and straightened up, his neck protested so hard he let out a grunt. Rubbing his eyes, he looked up only to notice that sunlight bathed the room in golden hues, which meant it was around dinner time.

“You most definitely need a rest,” his father commented, making Noctis jump in surprise. Regis stood on a doorstep, fingers tapping against his cane rather irritatingly. Noctis felt like a naughty child all of sudden, smiling sheepishly at him.

Judging by Regis’ arched eyebrow and totally unimpressed stare he wasn’t buying it the slightest bit, so Noctis let himself stretch under his father’s withering gaze. Only to groan again when his bones protested just like his neck did.

Regis let out a harsh sigh, stepping closer and Noctis already prepared for the scolding of his life. Honestly, Ignis and his Dad ganged up on him so well he even joked that probably Ignis was his father’s child out of wedlock. Two withering stares made him raise his palms in surrender and complain to Prompto about their lack of sense of humor for the whole evening.

“You’re working too hard, son,” instead of scolding Regis sighed again, touching his shoulder. “I’m not much of help, I know—”

“Okay, we’re not discussing it again, Dad,” Noctis rolled his eyes and gave him a suffering look. “You’re amazing. I could never have handled it on my own. Not to mention I knew what I was getting into,” he smiled up at his father. “You were the one who told me every time that the crown is a heavy burden.”

“I’m glad you have those to share it with,” Regis stoked his forehead slightly before placing a palm on his shoulder again. “But enough of the work for today. Leave it to me and go have a well-deserved rest.”

“But I finished only half of—” Noctis looked back at the pile of papers and felt a strong urge to throw them away and flop on a bed finally. 

“Leave them to me,” Regis smiled reassuringly. “Let your father remember good old days of being the one in charge.”

Noctis couldn’t help but chuckle at that. Shaking his head he offered his chair with a bow, earning a chuckle in return. Then and only then he finally walked out of the cabinet, feeling every joint in his body screaming at him in accusation. He couldn’t blame his body for demanding rest but his mind pushed forward and forward with each passing day.

It was a blessing he had his father and his friends to support him. Ignis, as his Advisor, did the majority of paperwork and helped with meetings Noctis was not able to attend because simply couldn’t have been in two places at the same time. Prompto was mostly torn between Insomnia and Niflheim these days, helping Aranea who was left in charge together with Ravus.

The latter agreed to reinvigorate friendly relations between Niflheim and Lucis, at the same time struggling with rebuilding Tenebrae because it still suffered the consequences of daemons’ attack from all those years ago. Nyx and his most trusted Glaives were the ones Ravus accepted assistance from and Noctis was glad he did. Maybe the day they would finally come to terms with each other wasn’t far away.

Gladio and Cor worked together with the Glaives and it seemed Marshall was more than ready to transfer his cases and position to Noctis’ Shield who, honestly, was slightly out of the job of protecting Noctis. Only because of a certain someone who sat under a tree in Citadel’s garden, bathed in golden light.

Noctis threw off his coat to the side and flopped on his back, head on Ardyn’s knees, nuzzling against his thigh happily. A soft chuckle covered him like a warm blanket and fingers started stroking his hair in feather-soft touches. Noctis thought his heart would explode the moment he saw Ardyn sitting under that tree, but there, lying in his arms finally, he felt at peace.

Since the moment they became Whole again, he was at peace.

Ardyn’s fingers brushed against his neck and in a second all pain was gone, tearing out a soft sigh out of Noctis’ lungs. He never asked about Ardyn’s mysterious ability – it was a part of his world too. An ability which helped his father get back on his feet and eased Noctis’ pain every time he felt even the slightest resemblance of it.

He never questioned because he already knew. And he loved it as much as Ardyn’s golden eyes or his hair of the color of blood, or his Chancellor’s clothes he still liked to wear almost every time (frankly speaking, Noctis kind of liked them since the beginning – they suited Ardyn perfectly), or his smile, with its enormous variety. He loved dark liquid that coated Ardyn’s face from time to time, turning it into a mask of daemon Noctis found beautiful nonetheless. He loved the way Ardyn took care of daemons sometimes when they called for him and he came through the shadows, pushing the thresholds of a world around them, only to ease their pain and suffering.

He loved Ardyn as he was and Ardyn loved him back the same because they were two parts of a Whole. They were torn apart by people and otherworldly beings but every time they reached for each other over and over again. Despite the time, despite the pain, despite the distance between them they still found each other.

And Noctis stopped worrying. He stopped worrying about what awaited them next because no matter what they would be together to meet it face to face. He stopped thinking about the gods, who weren’t gods at all and held no power other them, just like they never did.

He never thought about Angelgard again, or the cave in its heart where Crystal now resided, locked up in a place where it won’t bother anyone ever again. Together with the Ring of Lucii, which became a simple piece of jewelry, losing all semblance of control it might have had over them all.

He stopped thinking about it all when there was a bright future he wanted to plan instead.

“I’ve seen a dream about us being like this when I was a child,” he smiled against Ardyn’s thigh, turned on his back again, and looked up into golden eyes. The love in them matched the one shining in his own. “It was the night I’ve met you for the first time.”

“It was a beautiful dream, indeed,” Ardyn smiled and Noctis reached up to stroke his cheek with the pads of his fingers. “I’ve seen it that night too.”

“So it wasn’t a dream then?” Noctis chuckled happily. “More like a vision of us here finally?”

“I don’t know what that was but I know that right now it’s not a dream at all,” Ardyn took his hand and kissed his fingers and Noctis sat up, opening up his arms.

Ardyn placed his head on his shoulder and the sigh that escaped him was full of peace as well. They intertwined their hands and just sat like that – together, two parts of the Whole, being each other’s worlds.

“If someone will try to tear me from you right now, I’ll do something bad,” Noctis confessed and when Ardyn smiled against his neck happily, Noctis already knew what he would say after that.

“They won’t. I’ll stop the time for us.”

And he did.


End file.
